


Life Imitates Art

by brunch, Fallowfield



Category: Naruto, Naruto Shippuden
Genre: Adapted From Roleplay, Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Police, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-08-21 23:49:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 54,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16586651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunch/pseuds/brunch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallowfield/pseuds/Fallowfield
Summary: Itachi attends SCAD, an art school in Savannah, GA. His little brother, Sasuke, his housemate, attends high school.A new year begins, and each of them come across a new, loud acquaintance who is hard to ignore.





	1. Don't Bother

**Author's Note:**

> These are collected from a series of roleplays I've done with brunch!  
> Each of us wrote about 50% of the words, then I compiled this into a readable fic.
> 
> Catch me on twitter @fallofield!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto just transferred to a new high school to begin his junior year, but on his first day he's already making waves.  
> Sasuke's just trying to mind his own business.

Naruto exhaled, running his fingers through his hair and bit the end of his pencil. The lecture kept droning on and on. He had begun the first what seemed like a century of class by using all his strength to focus on Yamato, but the last several centuries had completely lost him. He was always challenged at math, but jumping into the middle of a unit like this just wasn’t fair at all. Even the first day of the school year was a struggle for a new student, when the classes and teachers were new to the students just moving up a year. The new kids never knew things like where to keep your gym shoes all day. So Naruto had the option of carrying them or just wearing them, which is what he did. He didn’t mind them, anyway. He’d found orange laces for them, and when he wore them he could balance on the ball of his foot, as if he could surge forward in a sprint at any moment. But now it was math class. He found himself absent mindedly kicking his shoe against the chair in front of him. He was completely lost. The only person he knew at all here was Sakura, but she was sitting at the front of the room, attentive. She looked like she understood. Naruto wasn’t surprised. She was the one called down to the office to show him around. Everything about her seemed responsible and capable. Naruto sighed.

Sasuke glared down at the equation presented in front of him, written neatly on grid paper. It was the beginning of the school year, which meant the course was still largely review material. So why was this problem so damn difficult? He looked up and squinted at Yamato as he tapped the board with his marker. If he could just focus, he knew he could solve this easy and move on, but focusing in class had become more and more of a struggle. Besides. How could he be expected to absorb anything with the foot of his seat being repeatedly jarred by the classmate behind him? He put his pencil down suddenly, a louder than usual click against the desk. A warning. Obliviously, the kicking continued, squeaking his desk just the tiniest bit. He would wait just a little bit longer, counting seconds: 3...2...1.

Naruto had no idea. He heard the tap but he didn’t register anything. He’d always been lovingly (and not so lovingly) described as “hyperactive”, so it was a struggle just to keep the majority of his body contained, let alone his extremities. But all at once, the temperature seemed to mysteriously drop around him. The fluorescent lights seemed less potent. Maybe it was part of the drama of his math panic.

Sasuke whipped around toward the unfamiliar face, meeting him with a serious and cold expression, his black eyes dulled in irritation.

"Your foot. It's kicking my seat."

Naruto jumped with an audible “urrrk!”, gritting his teeth. He was knocked a bit speechless. The boy in front of him was naturally striking, even without daggers for eyes. When he finally found his voice he stammered: “O-oh! Sorry.” And he smiled that ridiculous grin he made when he was anxious.

Sasuke’s expression shifted from one of icy contempt to a look of stony skepticism. His eyes flickered shortly at the new kid sitting behind him as if he was embarrassed for him. Sasuke could already tell judging by the looks of him. He was too...much. This kid didn't do too well in school and probably said everything at least several decibels too loud. Not the kind of person Sasuke worked well with, which made it obnoxious that he was seated next to him for the duration of the semester. He decided to let it go and began shifting back around when suddenly, his name was called upon from the front of the class.

"Sasuke that's very generous of you to be helping our new classmate get caught up. You're usually pretty talented at mathematics, so I'm glad I seated you two next to each other. Actually, Sasuke, since you have a good grasp on this, why don't you just finish this problem out for me? "

Yamato extended his marker towards Sasuke, calling him to the front of the class. A dark atmosphere overwhelmed this quadrant of the classroom as wordlessly, Sasuke stood up from his desk and approached the whiteboard.

So this is how it was going to be.

Naruto inhaled, horrified. If it weren’t for the barometric drop, he could have sat back on the assumption that Sasuke had already answered it. But Naruto had a lump in his throat. From here, he could see Sasuke's answer-less notebook. His eyes followed Sasuke as he approached the board. Shit. Naruto saw Sasuke’s empty page, then looked at the teacher. Maybe it was an honest mistake. Maybe he could say he’d distracted him. That he’d asked for help before Sasuke could complete it. But the look in the Yamato’s eyes did not match the softness of his voice. He knew what he was doing.

Naruto bit the inside of his cheek. Already some bad blood with his neighbor. Someone who may have actually been able to help him with math. He tried to figure out what he could do, but everything seemed to end in embarrassing Sasuke.

Sasuke walked stiffly up to the front of the classroom, taking the marker from his teacher's expectant hand. Sasuke was willing to let the chair-tapping slide. The kid was new after all. But after this public humiliation, there was no going back. Naruto, or whatever it was, seemed like the kind of person Sasuke loved least. That stupid smile. He was still reeling. What a dumbass.

He stood at the board flatly and raised the marker, tip barely touching the board. 

And just stood there. Frozen. 

Any chatter rumbling in the classroom was suddenly eliminated, and a cold silence slowly filled up the room, just like water sinking a ship. Without anywhere else to look, Sasuke stared straight at the whiteboard, his gaze becoming unfocused, transcending his shame.

"Go on. .. Sasuke?" Yamato offered.

Sasuke just stood there.

No one said anything.

 

Naruto flinched. Oh, this was bad. Looking at Sasuke seemed to to burn into the lump in his throat. For once at this school the embarrassment wasn’t falling solely on him, but this was decidedly....much worse. Even competitive nature aside. This boy always held his attention too long. He didn’t understand his significance. But making him an enemy? No. Nope. He wanted to outrun him in gym, show off to him, not publicly shame him in math class.

As soon as Yamato took a slight inhale, indicating he was going to break the silence, Sasuke turned and offered him back his marker before robotically walking himself back into his seat. He wasn’t even blushing, he’d so transcended this embarrassment. By the looks of it, his soul had absolutely left this plane.

Yamato looked over at his direction before again redirecting to the problem. His efforts were miniscule and for naught, as the entire classroom's eyes were now on the pair seated beside each other.

After Sasuke sat down, there was a deafening silence while Yamato regrouped. Naruto opened his mouth.

“Uhh....Yamato?” Naruto was 90% sure of the name. He flinched in case he got it wrong. “It’s not his fault. I asked him before he had a chance to look at it.”

The class hushed as the new kid, for the first time, spoke up. Sasuke gritted his teeth and hissed quietly. "Shut up....” he warned. He was only making things worse for him. This act of honesty and peacemaking was transparent bravado, and everyone could tell. A snicker faintly resounded at the opposite corner of the classroom. Several looks of doubt were cast on Sasuke, who’d already lost considerable social capital among his peers.

"Hm...I see." Yamato answered. "Well, thank you for your honesty....Just make sure next time--" He continued with some half hearted corrections, but was interrupted by the bell ringing. It was the last class of the day.

Sasuke quickly stood up, violently ramming his chair against the desk behind him. He lifted his nose a bit in indignance as he prepared to exit.

Naruto scowled. He really hadn’t meant badly by it. He just didn’t really think it through. The reactions of the class didn’t seem to affect him as much as they did for Sasuke. He’d endured this at least once per period today. But he saw the damage it had on Sasuke. It was anger, but something in his eyes was like shattered glass rather than just glinting steel. Something about that feeling disturbed him, beyond the embarrassment. He didn’t want to leave it like this.

Sasuke was already up and leaving. Naruto scrambled to shove everything in his bag, untangle his feet from the desk, and stand up. Sasuke was already stalking out the door.

The sooner Sasuke put this behind him, the better. He gripped his backpack straps closely and made a beeline for the door as his classmates finished organizing their lockers and backpacks. He found himself actually looking forward to work. It felt like there at least he had his head on his shoulders. Lately it felt like the less opportunity for social interaction, the better. Frankly he wanted to wash his hands of this situation.

Sakura, who was trying to be friendly and inclusive, came up to Naruto and opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly grabbed his things and strode after Sasuke. She sighed and said to nobody: “Don’t bother, Naruto.” But Naruto was already out the door, clumsily juggling his bag, which was still half-unzipped.

It took a moment, but once Naruto spotted him in the crowd, he wouldn’t let anything tear his eyes away. How did Sasuke manage to dodge the stream of people so quickly? This guy made him mad. Made him flustered. It was like Naruto’s head wanted to make up for Sasuke’s coldness by growing hotter. It almost made him dizzy. He didn’t even know why he was so insistent on catching this guy. He marched after him until he finally caught up.

Sasuke had managed to pass the exit of the school and enter the courtyard when he noticed the footsteps against the pavement behind him. That voice again. "Hey!"

Sasuke tensed, paused for a moment, and continued walking. He had to get to work.

Naruto took enormous steps until he was almost astride of Sasuke and finally closed the gap between them. He realized he was gritting his teeth. After his first “hey” was brushed off, Naruto said it louder. “Hey!”

Sasuke continued, focused on making it to the parking lot. If he could just make it to his car and leave, confrontation wouldn't be necessary. Most people would have taken the not-so-subtle hint by now but....this guy. This guy, obnoxious colors and all, did not know when to quit. He stepped alongside him now, meeting his pace. It was clear he was not going to let this go. Something inside Sasuke snapped in that moment, and he whipped around to face the new student. Contempt was written across his expression and he was clearly making efforts to manage his impulses. Sasuke pursed his lips briefly in the momentary silence, allowing his mood to be read. Measuredly, he directed his attention at the blonde.

"Are you finished embarrassing yourself?"

Naruto was somewhat surprised that Sasuke actually stopped, and his eyebrows shot up as he shortened his steps. It took a lot of effort to keep from stumbling.

He had a lot of difficulty to stop gritting his teeth long enough to respond. He instead transferred the strain to clenching his fists. Sasuke’s dark eyes cut into him, the contempt much stronger than he expected, knocking him off balance.

“Embarrassing myself? I was just trying to take the blame off you. I was the one he should have called on. And anyways. Who cares?” He inhales abruptly. “They’ll forget that happened in like an hour.”

Sasuke gritted his teeth and drew his eyebrows together. He was almost impressed by Naruto's ability to continually miss the entire point. Of course they'd forget, their opinions on the situation didn't really matter so much as the degradation experienced at the hands of his new math partner.

"Listen. Naruto, right?" Sasuke spoke cuttingly, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not sure what your agenda is, but your charity has put me in a foul mood. Don't you have some tutoring you should be showing up to, anyway?"

Naruto was testing him. He could tell. And Sasuke was intent on drawing boundaries as early as necessary. He was known for being blunt, but it wasn't often that he expressed his anger so candidly. At least not at school. This kids' constant pursuit just really grated on him. His lack of tact, his volume, his absolute obliviousness. He was the embodiment of everything Sasuke never wanted to be, much less be associated with.

It was a waste of time.

Naruto let out an exasperated sigh. He attempted to hide his confusion. “Agenda?? Charity...? There’s no charity I just wanted them to know the truth. I didn’t want Professor Yamato mad at you. I—“

Then he stopped.

“You know what?” His grin crept onto his face. “I think we just misunderstood. Maybe we can just start over.” He stretched out his arm to Sasuke and held out his hand. “I’m Naruto Uzumaki. I’m new so. Maybe it makes me clumsy.” He was giving away more slack than he generally wanted to. But. Sasuke seemed really hard to appease. He had to make a compromise. Those dark eyes still bore a hole right through him. It made him sweat at the temples. Sasuke jut out his lower lip when he was angry. Naruto stared at it.

"Oh my god,"

Sasuke muttered flatly, almost inaudibly. He quickly looked Naruto up and down before giving him the most unimpressed expression, keeping his hands by his pockets and leaving Naruto's  gesture unreciprocated. After an awkward beat, Sasuke again looked down at Naruto's lonely hand.

"New huh. You seem to have a lot of experience with this."

It was clear Sasuke was not intent on meeting his handshake, nor introducing himself.

Naruto blinked. He was loath to put his hand away. What a bad sport. He just wanted to put it behind them. Forget like their classmates would. He still stared at his mouth since his eyes were a bit too intense for him still. Made his hand sweat. Maybe it was good he wasn’t going to shake his hand. He dropped it to his side as gracefully as he could.

“Uh... yeah! They’ve, uh. Had to move me around quite a bit.” He scratched the back of his head with his hand, feeling a bit awkward. but then he grinned. “I hope I can stay long enough to graduate here though.”

"Hm."

That explained a lot. Naruto was probably one of those kids who never really got adjusted anywhere, so the extraordinary lengths he was going through to redeem himself were probably due to the fact that he couldn't afford to start things off so poorly. Sasuke inwardly cringed at the transparency of it all, but still, it was kind of impressive this kid was able to maintain such an eager and positive determination. While maintaining distance, he reconsidered.

Sasuke finally broke his stare and looked to the side. He noticed Naruto was staring at his face, a little too forwardly. Maybe he was confused. Whatever. Though it had been a trial, Naruto had succeeded in de-escalating a miffed Sasuke.

"It's just less than two years. Your parents probably want to keep you here for graduation." Sasuke paused, still genuinely perturbed. "I mean as long as you don't go around fucking things up for yourself." He made eye contact again. Maybe his gaze had softened since before. But then again. He still held a strict rigidity.

Naruto felt the tension ease somewhat. He was relieved. It wasn’t entirely clear to him exactly why he was investing so much in appeasing Sasuke. His experience led him to try to maintain good rapport with people, but also realize when the investment was too great. People will think what they’ll think. He didn’t analyze it too much and went with his instincts. The break in Sasuke’s steely gaze was a welcome reward. He was still quite rigid but his body language was more open, like the air could flow through.

Suddenly Naruto could sense that he’d stared for too long and Sasuke noticed. He dropped his eyes, flushing a bit.

“Ah, yeah, well.” Naruto was transparent about his background. He didn’t hide it. But he didn’t want to propel himself into a long monologue about his life story. “You’d be surprised. I just stay where there’s room, you know? I try not to mess it up.” He laughed.

"I suppose."

Sasuke met Naruto's gaze, but his previous expression of unguarded contempt had shifted into one of tested boredom. His eyes had flattened some, no longer so challenging and aggressive. Sasuke had little interest in commiserating about home life, especially with a stranger who had given him nothing but grief since they’d met.

He noted the slight flush that crossed Naruto's face as he dipped his head and thought to himself, surprised, that at least this idiot knew some shame.

"Sasuke!"

A light voice called across the pavement. Sasuke turned a quarter ways towards the voice's direction to be met by an approaching Sakura. "Hey, you're being good to our new transfer student right Sasuke? He's new you know!"

Naruto was thankful for the distraction. He realized his heart was racing. At least the air around them had begun to move again. He was now frustratingly dull. His eyes flat stones rather than daggers. Sasuke was so far above him. And Naruto bit his lip. At least the spell that made him stare seemed to be broken. He tried to shake the color from his face.

He turned to Sakura, glad to change the subject. He never knew what to say when people mentioned parents. He didn’t want to make the conversation unnecessarily heavy. Especially with strangers.

“Hi Sakura.”

Sakura made a brief smile in acknowledgement at Naruto before returning to Sasuke. "Sasuke, key clubs getting together and the seniors are brought snacks for club rush, if you want to join! I know several of them brought some other things besides sweets since I know you don't like them so much...." she trailed off.

Sasuke’s expression hadn't changed since she started speaking, and he pulled his hand from his pocket, revealing a pair of keys.

"Sorry." He announced, finding an exit to this unwanted situation. "I have work."

"Oh yeah, of course, well, another time maybe!" Sakura offered, clearly a bit embarrassed. To save herself she quickly turned to Naruto, "Well, what about you? Do you have anywhere to be?"

Though Sakura tried to hide it, Naruto saw it clearly. The smile she wore for Sasuke was unlike any smile he’d seen her give any other part of the day. He could feel how her heart sped up and the words tumbled out of her mouth. How she’d rehearsed what words to say as she approached them. How, as he refused her, she smiled, but Naruto saw her crumple.

As she turned to her second choice, very disappointed even beyond her efforts to hide it, Naruto grinned, embarrassed for her but willing to play along. “I can go with you. Can’t refuse snacks!”

Sakura drew her eyebrows together and smiled lightly at Naruto. What a goof. Still, he seemed nice enough, and Sakura had been tasked with showing him the ropes around here. Still, she was hoping she'd be spending this afternoon a little differently. A new school year had begun and Sakura was determined to start fresh. She had hung out with Sasuke before, but never really one on one. He was just hard to reach, and she didn't know why. It was frustrating.

"Well. You're in luck then," she responded, a faint hint of resignation in her lilted voice. "I made dumplings for the event. You can have some." She smiled sweetly. As long as they weren't going to waste she supposed. Sakura finally turned from Sasuke, then motioned for Naruto to follow her back inside the school.

Naruto glanced over as Sasuke got into his car, then folded his arms behind his head. “Yummm that sounds good. You like to cook, Sakura?” He began to follow her. This was also a good chance to learn his way around the school. He’d already gotten lost twice today and had to ask for help. It wasn’t a school with a very intuitive layout. He’d only asked Sakura once. He tried not to burden her too much. But he would admit he might not be good at trying not to burden her too much. But he was accepting an invitation. How rude could it be? He still had his stupid grin. “Sasuke in a lot of clubs? Seems like a busy guy.”

"Hm....Well he was…." She started, readjusting the backpack on her shoulders. "But he's working all the time now. I'm not sure he'll be able to keep up with it this year," she lamented. She was looking at the pavement, open eyed, trailing off a little. "I see you've already gotten to know him." She added quickly, an almost apologetic smile across her lips, understanding how awkward that must have been for Naruto.

Naruto laughed his obnoxious laugh that Sasuke undoubtedly heard even as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Well that’s one way to put it. D’you know him well, Sakura? I imagine if you’ve been in the same clubs as him and stuff.” He followed her down a hallway he hadn’t been through before.

"Yeah, you could say that. We grew up together, we've been going to the same schools since we were young." She was all smiles today, apparently, though in reality she was downtrodden at how the end of today had gone. Still, she was determined to try her best for Naruto and enjoy the afternoons activities. She paused as they reached the open door to an empty classroom and placed her dish on the desk at the far end.

"I hope...you don't think he's a bad guy," she started, looking for words. "Sasuke has good intentions. But he can be pretty severe....He’s been through a lot. Sometimes I guess it's best to just let him be." She gave a bit of a shrug and looked away. "Anyway," she swerved, "I told you I'd made dumplings, you should try some! They're over here."

She made her way to one of the containers and unlocked it for Naruto. Amongst all the baked goods , Sakura's dumplings seemed out of place.

Naruto smiled, excited. “Don’t mind if I do.” He wouldn’t mention it to anyone, but the minuscule free lunches didn’t cut it for him. He usually found himself quite hungry in the afternoon, even as he actively avoided going home. So the fact they weren’t baked good make it better, in a way.

He could sense she was a little down about Sasuke. After his first bite he answered her. “Ah, no, no. I don’t think he’s a bad guy. I just made him good and mad.” He laughed. “And you know better than I do.” The last comment was exaggerated to bolster her confidence, he would admit. He did hear how Sasuke had been through a lot, and it made his mind wander, but he didn’t mention it.

“These are good, Sakura. Thanks! You like to cook?” He did notice how they were out of place. “What club’s this for again? If you need help setting up or anything, I’m glad to help.”


	2. True Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new semester begins, and Itachi meets an interesting stranger in his Art Appreciation class.

It was kind of Shisui to walk with Itachi to his first class of the new semester. Though it wasn’t his first year here, the support was appreciated, and they both savored the idea of spending any time together after a summer apart. Shisui had again spent it away, this time interning for some prestigious agency in New York, leaving Itachi feeling somewhat heavy in his absence. A year in art school had not changed much. Shisui was still his only friend. 

His senior walked him into the wooden floored room--Art Appreciation 213, explaining he had business to catch up on with the professor, anyway. Shisui offered a goodbye as they separated, already scheduling plans to meet up once more, and the whole while, Itachi said nothing. He was the type it seemed who could get away with that, as a simple nod to the affirmative held adequate significance. Despite the heat and humidity of the late summer, Itachi kept wearing a long black cardigan over a white tee. He didn’t seem too affected by it, neither did he seem too invested in being here. 

Deidara didn’t want to be here, either. He didn’t know how he ever had the patience to begin a semester. His mind wandered elsewhere. And his back hurt, but when did that surprise him? He leaned dramatically on the table, disregarding the debris of past projects. This time it was all the same people too, so far. His posture was due to sulking, but it was also to avoid eye contact with Hidan, who never failed to sit by him and yammer on and on about the weaknesses of his art. And class hadn’t even started yet. But——   
  
The constant monologue of his brain suddenly silenced itself. It was like all the lights pointed toward the doorway. There was Shisui. Deidara knew of him. He was a distinguished upperclassmen, one of the few whose work actually earned Deidara’s respect. But then Shisui turned to leave. That’s a pity. Deidara wasn’t surprised, as he was a successful upperclassmen and this was Intro to Art Appreciation.

But it wasn’t Shisui that stood out. It was the person who followed him in. Deidara had never seen him before. He blinked and sat up. Something about him, in the most silent way, demanded all of his attention. Made his heart start skipping. Made him sweat at his hairline. Who was that? Even his humble entrance was like a performance Deidara wanted to record. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. What grace. Nobody had ever made him double take like that before. He glared to one side. Hidan.” His voice was exacerbated. “Who the fuck is that.”   
Hidan, who hadn't been paying attention, answered: “Eh, what? Nah.” 

Deidara narrowed his eyes. “Never mind.”

Because he was on the late side, Itachi noticed many of the seats were already filled, and he scanned the old room for a place he'd take up for the rest of the semester. Perfect. A seat right by the window. 

But Deidara’s eyes followed this newcomer. “Hidan….” He whispered, not really caring if he was listening. “Who does he think he IS?” But his eyes widened as he realized his trajectory. Here?? He’s coming over here?? The beam of light seemed to follow him. Usually nobody but Hidan ever sat next to him cause for some reason he tolerated his outbursts and nature of his art. And even though he would loudly complain about it, he never really moved elsewhere.

Itachi seated himself towards the back of the classroom, next to the cracked window, finding himself positioned next to a long haired blonde and whoever his friend was. Itachi recognized him vaguely though could not come up with a name. He was into sculpture, right?  That was a world away from the unit of painters Itachi normally found himself associating with, and he found a relief in not being recognized by the person beside him. Besides, this guy really looked like he didn't want to be here. A sentiment Itachi shared, but chose not to indulge. He cast his gaze toward the chewed up pencil Deidara had been tapping. Loud guy. Though he had not yet said anything, Itachi could tell.

Anyways, Deidara usually had a lot of extra space around him. People avoided sharing his workspace. It was proof that the newcomer hadn’t interacted with him before. Deidara didn’t sit up, just was unable to tear his eyes away. He tapped his pencil on the table. What was it about this guy? Every movement seemed so graceful, even as he folded into the seat. Deidara wondered what he studied. He tried to ignore him and hide his interest, though it was difficult to do, because he felt if he ripped his eyes away, it would make a tearing sound.    
Deidara saw Hidan sit up, then was visibly struck by an evil intent. “Oh hi there!” Deidara scowled and wanted to punch him in the face. Now there was no option but to interact. He was furious.

Itachi was taken off guard at being addressed so openly. It was customary for him to make it in and out of class as unceremoniously as possible, exchanging hardly any pleasantries with his classmates. He did not recognize this fellow who previously had appeared to be asleep in his desk next to the blonde. "Hello.." he offered unhelpfully. 

Deidara was not accustomed to feeling any social anxiety. He couldn’t help but toss a dirty look at Hidan. He KNEW it was because he sensed Deidara’s nervous energy about this guy. Hidan was always such a jerk but he was so good at appearing naive Deidara could never prove it was in bad humor.

Itachi paused, clearly waiting for an introduction that was not offered, so he continued. "What do you do here? " He asked stiffly, addressing the both of them "I don't think we've met. but you." he addressed Deidara. "You've exhibited on campus before, haven't you?"

When asked about his exhibitions, Deidara usually tumbled into a somewhat arrogant monologue about the quality and excitement of his art. But this guys flat expression, deep eyes and....long, dark eyelashes put him on edge. “I...uh. Yeah. Yeah I have.” He tried to will the color away from his face. What an idiot. He wanted to throttle Hidan, who’d already sat back from the conversation. “I do a lot of sculpture. But it’s, uh, the performance where it really comes alive.” He sounded so stupid. He frowned, pouting somewhat. 

"The performance..?" Itachi mused, his interest somewhat piqued. Sculpture did not usually coincide with performance art as much as Itachi knew about it. It was a little bit hard to picture. Itachi gazed down at Deidara's graphite stained hands, painted black fingernails chipped and exposing more charcoal. Or was that soot? Suddenly Itachi remembered where he had recognized him before.

"You’re Deidara."

Shisui had mentioned him before. Apparently last year there had been an incident during finals where one of the halls Shisui was to be exhibiting at caught fire during another student's exhibition. He clearly remembered the burnt smell that shrouded that side if campus until the semester ended.

"I think I recognize your work." He offered little explanation but seemed somewhat engaged, a change from his usual hovering self.

Deidara’s demeanor changed, and he brightened, his eyes glittering. He finally stretched out of his chronic slouching. It was incredible. He’d already achieved some notoriety. He really saw no difference between fame and infamy. It was exhilarating, especially hearing it from someone so.........he didn’t finish his thought. Anyways. This Itachi must have a good eye. “And what do you do?”

"I'm Itachi. I paint."

Deidara was surprised he’d never seen Itachi before. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. The artistry in his features and movement could never possibly have escaped his eye. He was certain. “I must have narrowly missed meeting you, Itachi. What a pity, hm.” His fury at Itachi’s perfection was somewhat quelled by the compliment. The god descends to earth. He couldn’t help but return to the subject. “You recognize my work, hm? Did you see my show?”

Itachi's face was somewhat blank as he looked over the student beside him. After unfolding himself it was clear to Itachi how small he was, funny that a presence so loud could physically be so petite. Frankly, Itachi had not been prepared to exchange pleasantries, much less converse here before class started. Suddenly, Deidara seemed much more wound up than when Itachi had walked in.

"Such a pity," Itachi agreed, mimicking Deidara's word choice. The truth was that though he had become familiar with this sculptor's antics vaguely through Shisui and other gossip, Itachi couldn't really put a finger on what Deidara actually made.

"Yes, I remember your show. It had a very organic feel. Tense." Itachi was lying, trying to further appease the young prodigy before him. But honestly, it did seem pretty interesting. Itachi found himself not really minding listening to him, so he fed the flames just a little bit.

“HA.” Deidara smiled to himself, almost as if laughing at his own joke, though he hadn’t made one. His eyes never left Itachi, though. He couldn’t stop scrutinizing his face, which stayed remarkably blank even as he spoke. His dark eyes were like looking through a telescope to the outer reaches of space. Deidara was sucked in. Thankfully the seats were arranged far enough apart that his leaning forward was not too close. Though he wouldn’t have minded. At least when Itachi was seated, Deidara didn’t have the infuriating sensation of having to bend his neck to look upward at him.

He vacillated between wanting to scowl at the vision before him and wanting to boil over with babble about his art. He remained in an awkward middle ground.

“Organic...but with tension.” It was unclear what his actual reaction to the statement was. His eyes met Itachi’s. He skewed his brow. “I hadn’t heard it described like that. You saw it before the event, didn’t you? Not many had.” He smiled, wrinkled his nose, at which it twisted into a smirk. Tension was definitely present.

Itachi had not even noticed that their gazes had become locked. He kept his same flat stare the entire time, unphased by the assertive, even aggressive, nature before him. He looked directly at Deidara, as if he was watching a movie he'd already seen before, but picking up more details this time. "Yes." He affirmed the assumptions Deidara was projecting on him and offered little else, never once breaking his gaze.

Deidara was infuriated at the cruel timing of fate. How could he have never seen this Itachi before? He had been blind up until this moment, apparently. Itachi could see dueling fires clashing in Deidara’s gaze. The strength in which Itachi stared back, unerring even when directly challenged, ebbed them onward.

But Itachi continued. "Though. Do you mind if I offer a small critique?"

Deidara’s smirk twisted back into a grin, regardless. He cupped his chin with both of his hands. “Of course! Please share.”

"Your art." Itachi remained a neutral canvas, maintaining an intense, but somehow rather soft, visage as Deidara watched. "It's not challenging."

Though Itachi had never actually seen Deidara's art, he felt, based on his new acquaintance's demeanor, what he said was probably not far off the mark.

Deidara opened his mouth and stared at Itachi for a long moment. Those who were more familiar with Deidara would’ve probably gasped, awaiting an explosion from him. He narrowed his eyes. But his lips eventually turned up, and he clasped his hands together, grainy with the soot that remained on them.

“Now....we can’t be having that. I need to fix that, don’t I?” He snickered as if he knew an incriminating secret. “What do you suggest, ‘Itachi’?”

Itachi briefly looked down at Deidara's hands, then slowly looked back up to meet his face, now projecting a much more aggressive vibe. As expected, really. This Deidara really was easily read.

"Art should cause you to think, shouldn't it?" he said calmly, their energies clearly unmatched. "If you spell it out for your viewers, it leaves them with nothing to go home and think about." At this point, Itachi was clearly making personal remarks.

Deidara’s eyes widened dramatically, then he snorted and threw his head back, laughing quite loudly. It took him a long moment to stop. This Itachi was....incredible. Nothing could intimidate him. Deidara was growing more impressed by the second. He wiped a tear from his eye.

“Well....I’ve heard that one before.” He tilted his head down but stared intently at Itachi. “But there’s the matter of if they choose to think about it though, hm?”

Itachi continued staring back at Deidara as he threw his head back, hair spilling down his back. He drew attention to himself with his loud laugh, the classroom which had filled out briefly directed their attention to him. Deidara didn’t seem to notice. Leaning on his elbow, Deidara now leaned closer than before, his energy much more focused.

"I suppose that can be true," Itachi conceded flatly. Whether he did it consciously or not, Itachi was testing Deidara. He seemed very passionate about his pursuits, which Itachi found himself respecting.

Deidara loved it. This striking stranger coming here and grilling him made his heart race. He flipped his hair with his hand and returned his gaze to Itachi’s. He didn’t care that he drew attention. He always did, regardless of how conscious he was of it. Sometimes it felt good, anyway. He found Itachi’s completely uninterested tone delicious. “There’s more to it than meets the eye.”

Itachi paused, and for the first time he released his unattached expression. Deidara. He didn't give up. A small smile crossed his lips. "You're right."

Deidara saw the smile go by. The pleasure was incredible. It was so brief one could almost doubt it was there at all. But it was.

Just then, the professor entered the classroom, indicating the beginning of their first lecture. The voice of the professor broke Deidara out of his thoughts. He frowned. He didn’t have time for this. He wanted to keep talking to this stranger. His eyes followed Itachi’s hands, which had folded themselves together as he faced the front of the room.


	3. Protecting the Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi goes to lunch with Shisui.

Shisui smiled at Itachi. “You’re sure this isn’t cutting too close to your studio time?” He felt bad cause his morning class ended so close to when Itachi’s began. He wished he could spend more time with him today, but it seemed like most days, their availability was opposite. There was only this 40 minute window for lunch. 

"I'll manage." Itachi answered, folding himself into the seat across from his senior. Truth be told, Itachi wasn't as invested in his classes lately, but he still went out of duty, always punctual. This time with Shisui was more valuable to him anyway. It had been a while since they could do more than exchange pleasantries, their lives ran at different times it seemed. 

Shisui smiled and tilted his head to one side, pleasantly clasping his hands together. “I don’t want you to be late because of me. It’s your figure drawing class, no? You probably can get her to scold me for you. I know her well.” He shut his eyes while he laughed at his own assertion. He really missed Itachi. It had only been a week or two but it still felt like such an awful long time. Especially since their schedule situation was grim. “I didn’t know what you wanted but I ordered you their dessert special. Not even sure what it is yet.” He wondered what it was, what Itachi’s fate was. He found things like that exciting.

Itachi made a faint smile at his cousin's gesture: ordering for him. Shisui alone knew him well enough to do that for him, even with the time apart. "You should come over sometime, Shisui. Sasuke's missing you." He placed his hands softly in his lap, his head slightly bent.

Shisui beamed, but his aura was so gentle. “Is he, now? Well I’ll see if I can stop by this weekend. I should be able to. How’s Sasuke been?”

"Hm.." Itachi inspected the silverware placed in front of him. How does one describe "how Sasuke’s been" anyway? Frankly, at best, Itachi didn't really know, and at worst, he was probably doing poorly with his junior year starting and this job to which he married himself. Itachi often worried about him, but he also knew Sasuke very well, and wasn't sure there was much else that could be done, at least from his position. 

"Well. You know he has this job he was recently promoted in." Itachi started, a small note of defeat in his voice. "Chick-fil-A." He made eye contact with Shisui, looking like his eyes were about to roll out of their sockets.

Shisui couldn’t help but laugh at Itachi’s expression. “He’s always the kind to take what he’s doing so seriously.” He narrowed his eyes knowingly at Itachi. “You’d rather he didn’t?” He sipped his water and it made that pleasing bell sound. “I hope it makes him happy, anyway. Though that’s such a strange choice. I didn’t expect that one.” His eyes wrinkled at the edges. “He’s pretty strong, but we worry about things other than that, don’t we?”

Itachi stared forward a little, breaking eye contact with Shisui as he folded his hands toward his face, elbows on the table. He didn't return Shisui's laughter. As suggested in his previous comments, Itachi too was one who often took things too seriously. Even if he was doing alright, it had been a long time since Shisui had heard Itachi's laughter. That's just how it was.

"No...." Itachi started. He always so deliberately chose his words. "It's just I don't see him often anymore. He goes to school and then he works. I don't think he's continuing the school activities he committed to last year, even. He's busy every day now."

Just then, the waiter arrived with Shisui's order. Before Itachi he placed a plate of roll cake, a neat little swirl of presumably matcha flavor, powdered sugar and a small fruit assortment sweetly decorating the plate.

"....of course he has Sundays off." Itachi finished, his attention now drawn to his dessert.

Shisui’s expression relaxed. “It makes sense to miss him. It’s like how I miss you. And his schedule sounds even worse than ours!”

He looked up, gasping at the dessert. It was prettier than he imagined it would be. Perfect. It’s definitely something Itachi would like. The waiter hovered for a moment, wondering if they wanted anything else. Shisui ordered the soup.

“Anyways, he’s young and should take his time. But I also know that if I told him that, He wouldn’t listen.” He chuckled again, but more quietly.

Itachi's eyebrows drew together as he looked down at his plate and his eyes grew rather soft. It was like Shisui to read him so easily. He didn't intend to divulge any anxieties he may have been feeling, and how directly he addressed things often made Itachi uncomfortable. But in front of Shisui and their years of intimacy, Itachi was somewhat humbled.

"Thank you Shisui." He smoothed out the napkin placed on his lap. "It looks delicious." He offered his cousin the first bite, pushing his plate toward him.

"Really. You should stop by sometime. I think Sasuke is bored of playing video games against me." There was a small humor in his voice.

Shisui was glad to feel Itachi exhale some of his tension. He knew he may have hit too close to home, but he wanted Itachi to be able to break from dwelling on it so heavily. He knew, inside, that the only way to deal with Sasuke is to let him go but then be open to him as he comes back. And sometimes Sasuke even gets hurt out there. Shisui’s mind didn’t wander that far but he knew trying to contain Sasuke made him wander away. He and Itachi were very much alike but that was a key difference.

Shisui lifted his fork and took a small bite of it. “Ah, it’s good. I hope it stays on the menu.” He wrinkled his nose. The humor in Itachi’s voice was his reward. “You always let him have it with the video games. It’s hard to fake equivalence there.” Then he laughed and opened his eyes again. “And of course. If I stop by Sunday, he’ll be more likely to be there?”

Itachi nodded in affirmative.

"They close on Sundays you know. He's usually home then." Not as if there was ever anybody else in the house. For both Sasuke and Itachi, the only socialization they got was what was obligated in school or at work. Neither were accustomed to visitors, much less visiting.

Itachi took a neat fork-full from his plate and lifted the cake to his lips. Sweet. He shut his eyes, pausing, and quietly slouched back in his booth. It was good, and Itachi did not want to go to studio. He looked to the side, glancing at the clock. For a brief moment, Itachi allowed himself to look as tired as he felt.

“I’ll come by Sunday then.” Shisui’s soft gaze was on his cousin. He could sense how much it meant without it being said. Itachi had asked twice. And he usually didn’t ask at all, even for what he needs. Shisui could tell how tired he was.

He was glad to see Itachi at least was enjoying the cake. It was arranged beautifully, in a way that really would have reminded him of him even if he hadn’t been here. “School’s been hard on you?”

Itachi's gaze shifted quickly back to Shisui. Still slouching, he frowned softly. "School is fine." He answered in the gentle annoyance of one's pride being disturbed.

He exhaled just a small bit, turning his head to the side, still maintaining eye contact. "Are you concerned?”

His expression shifted to one of subtle, playful condescension. Shisui returns home and pays for his desserts and barrages him with questions about his home life. Though Shisui was known for his easy going and relaxed demeanor, it was transparent he was concerned about his family.

It was almost bittersweet.

Shisui knew he’d overstepped. He shut his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “....No. in fact I have no worries about you at all.” He grinned anxiously. “You have a lot of strengths.”

It was more that he felt Itachi was worrying more than he felt was necessary. About Sasuke, about school. It will work out in the end. Both of them were very strong. Always had been.

Shisui sipped at his soup to distract himself from his error.

Itachi paused. Though he had hoped to carry a small tone of playfulness, it was clear this had put Shisui a bit on edge. Itachi sighed, and corrected his slouched position, again sitting upright in the booth across.

"Shisui, you worry too much."

It was a bittersweet feeling. He knew Shisui cared very much, but Itachi could not accept becoming a burden to his senior, nor would his pride allow himself to be underestimated. Sasuke and he were, of course, brothers.

Shisui turned his lips up apologetically and shut his eyes. “I don’t have reason to. You two are very capable.” He laughed awkwardly and sipped his soup again.

It was hard not to worry. It was just the two of them. Itachi viewed Shisui as his senior, which was true. But Shisui viewed himself as their only family. So of course he would worry and dedicate time to them when he could. But it was also true that both of them were smart and capable. He just didn’t want them to have to strain too much if they didn’t have to.

Itachi looked at Shisui from the other side of the table for a moment before proceeding to look back at his half eaten slice of cake. A moment of dead air ensued. Itachi wished not to feel this melancholy seep into this otherwise relaxing environment, but he knew Shisui meant the best and was probably concerned after spending the summer apart and not having the opportunity to see either him or Sasuke. It couldn’tt be helped. Still, Itachi squirmed inwardly under the scrutiny of this ennui. His expression gave nothing away.

"It takes about ten minutes for me to walk to studio."

He tapped his phone awake to check the time, then looked up at Shisui apologetically.

Shisui was sad but made a happy face. It couldn’t be helped. “Well I’ll see you two on Sunday, right? It really has been too long since I’ve seen Sasuke.”

He gazed at Itachi. He really did feel old. Sometimes he forgot that those two weren’t kids anymore, even though he wasn’t all that much older.

“You’ll do great. I can’t wait to see your work this semester. I could walk with you if you’d like?”

Itachi made a small smile and unfolded himself from his chair. "You sure you’re finished? I haven't given you much time to eat."

He was being polite but in all honesty he was hoping Shisui would find the time. A part of him felt rather childish, relying on his cousin in this way. ....still. He hoped for him to escort him to class.

“No, I’m happy to come with you.” Shisui pretended not to notice how clearly he could see Itachi wanted him to come. He took one last sip of his soup. “I just have to go up and pay for this real quick.” He raises his eyebrows and smirked. “I’ll just be a sec.”


	4. Tennis Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto confronts Sasuke in gym class.

Sakura eyed Naruto as he slipped into the classroom a few minutes late, hoping not to be noticed. He slid into his seat, smiling anxiously. She bent towards him. “You’re lucky they haven’t come back yet,” she scolded lightly.

Naruto had finally caught his breath. Maybe he was just going to be marked absent from homeroom. He hated having that mark so soon, but what could be done? His alarm hadn’t gone off. He'd biked here as quickly as he could.

That Naruto.... Sakura had somewhat enjoyed his companionship the other afternoon in lieu of her first choice, but wow was he proving troublesome. With a sinking feeling she felt this wasn't going to get much better over time, and knew that Naruto was going to latch onto her as his new school-buddy. Maybe it was selfish, but despite her volunteering spirit, she felt she had a certain reputation to maintain. And Naruto, entering the second day of class late, dripping in sweat and clattering into his desk, did not align himself with her reputation.

Still. All things considered, it was a minor offense….

She sighed. Homeroom was ending anyway. As the teacher dismissed the students from their seats, Sakura padded over towards Naruto's seat.

"Geez...." she fretted gently. "What were you doing before class anyway...?" She shook her head. "Oh it doesn't matter, Naruto. What's the next class on your schedule anyway?"

She leaned over him by his desk closely, trying to see the folded piece of paper he pulled out of his pocket. She smelled sweet. A fresh and light sugary perfume.

Naruto looked up. “Oh hi Sakura. I missed the bus.” He regarded the paper in his hands. He knew it was another day of wandering around trying to find where he was supposed to be. But it would be better than yesterday. “I have....gym.” At least he vaguely knew where that was.

A dumb smile grew on his face. “Ah Sakura, you smell good.”

Sakura blinked as she drew her eyebrows up, looking sideways at her classmate. "Oh, uh, thanks Naruto..!"

Again with the smiles. He was charming in a way but that seemed a little forward….then again, Naruto seemed like he was kind of just like that™. Naruto didn’t really see how forward he’d been, of course. He just said what was on his mind.

She redirected herself back to the paper. "I'm in gym right now too," she added. It seemed strange she was already in so many classes with him. Oh well. She knew she was tasked by the school counselors to help ease him into school here. Maybe it made sense to choose her if they'd be seeing a lot of each other.

He brightened some knowing that she was in gym too, having no qualms with keeping his security blanket for awhile.

Sakura eyed him. "I guess you'll be needing a set of gym clothes."

Naruto folded his paper back and stood up. “I guess I do. You have uniforms? I can go ask the teacher.” He was no longer too shy to do that anymore. He would just go ask whomever seemed to know the answer. He picked up his bag and followed her through the door. At least he knew where the gym was.

Sakura accompanied Naruto to the gym. He seemed pretty confident despite it being his second day. He really did have experience with this, it felt like he didn't have many inhibitions for someone who was generally in the dark about the structure of things here. That was a trait Sakura did not have. She was sure that she would flounder more, too socially conscious to allow herself to so quickly try to make a place for herself in an unfamiliar setting.

She instructed him on where to pick up his gym uniform before scurrying off to the locker room. She was running late due to babysitting him, but a note from the office granted her immunity from any consequences. Still, Sakura seemed to prioritize punctuality.

“Thanks Sakura.” He smiled again and they parted ways. At least the gym coach understood where Naruto was coming from. He rushed back to the locker rooms and changed into his clothes right as he got them. It was strange being in there after everyone had left. But Naruto just pulled the shirt and shorts on, shoving his clothes into one of the lockers. Of course the class was meeting outside today, so he did his best to guess which door was best to lead to “Field 3.”

The class had already completed warming up by the time Naruto found it. A largeish group of highschoolers crowded around an older man as he lifted a tennis racket in demonstration. Their attention was momentarily disrupted as Naruto made his appearance. The coach paused his explaining to glance at what drew his students' attention. "Oh, hello, Naruto." He acknowledged the newcomer but quickly continued back to his spiel.

"So, we're doing tennis as our unit for the rest of this week. Just practice hitting balls with your partner today, alright? Now group up!"

Naruto seemed to always arrive at transition times and it always took a good moment for him to get his bearings. At least tennis was straightforward enough. He looked around. Most had already paired up, and it was clear nobody was looking in his direction. He saw Sakura but she was looking away. At Sasuke, he realized. Naruto blinked. In fact....it seemed like Naruto made the class an odd number.

“Uh... mister.” He didn’t know his name. “I think we have an odd number.”

“Ah,” the coach responded. “Then choose a group and you can be the third.”

Sakura's spirits were lifted and she could feel the tips of her fingers tremble just a little in excitement. How lucky. She had gotten here early to be able to take a seat just close enough to Sasuke so that when asked to split into groups, it would look organic when she looked to him to partner up. Sakura had her plan worked out precisely. Sasuke never rushed into a group so she could hold her breath and very casually ask him as if it were a coincidence, while the others around them paired up.

She was relieved that Naruto had arrived late enough to not immediately come to her for partnership. Look, he seemed like a nice enough guy, but this was starting to feel forced and she couldn't afford to be sending the wrong idea. Sasuke stood several feet from her, holding a tennis ball in one hand, his racket in the other.

"Are you good at tennis, Sasuke? I don't have much experience myself-" She trailed off, noticing Jiraiya pointing Naruto in their general direction.

....no.

Any. other group.

But here Naruto came. Coach had pointed toward them, and they were the only people he really “knew”, anyway. It was impossible for Sakura to completely hide her indignation at the cruelty of fate. She was stuck with him. Again.

“Hey....” Naruto grinned anxiously, able to tell that he was an unwanted interruption. The air seemed cold. His stupid grin didn’t leave but he narrowed his eyes as he faced the awkwardness. He tried to just watch Sakura, wave, and avoid eye contact with Sasuke.

Sasuke directed his gaze to follow Sakura's, pointing him to the familiar face from yesterday afternoon. The air around him became very still as his eyes widened slightly, tensing his jaw. While Sakura had found it in her to at least attempt a pleasant greeting, Sasuke could not. Just Sakura alone was tedious enough, but this, this was too much.

He made an unwelcoming stare at Naruto, finding himself gripping his racket extra tight.

"Naruto," he acknowledged coldly.

Naruto was trying to ignore his math partner, but upon the acknowledgement, he, well. Couldn’t stay away. “...Sasuke,” he muttered. He exhaled, then walked over and stood by Sakura. He tried to keep his gaze away from Sasuke. “We could take turns. Or. We could both be on this side, if you want.”

The rest of the class had split up and already had begun tossing the ball to each other. Jiraiya noticed their lack of movement. "Hey, you three. Don't just stand there, I'll have you give me laps," he warned.

Sakura froze up. She seemed disturbed by the social implications of being the only group to run laps. Naruto didn’t really care at all.

"Hmph."

Sasuke tossed his racket over his shoulder and made his way to the opposite side of the net. It appeared he was leaving Sakura with Naruto after all. Sakura squeezed her racket.

"I'll serve. You two just try and return the ball back to me." Sasuke instructed.

"Hey, go easy on me, I told you I'm a beginner...." Sakura put on her meek voice again.

“It’s ok, Sakura.” Naruto edged closer to her, his voice quiet. He didn’t want her to be worried.  “Just keep your eye on it and your racket will follow.” Then he stepped back and bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to challenge Sasuke. Of course Sasuke would be mean to her too. What a jerk.

Sasuke frowned as the late summer sun beat down on his face, positioning himself to serve. "Just stay focused." It was unclear if he was giving advice or venting frustration, but his delivery indicated the latter.

With that, he smacked the ball to the other side.

The ball flew between Naruto and Sakura, but since it was closer to Naruto, he dove and smacked it back without feeling like he knocked it away from her.

Sasuke leaned towards where Naruto projected the ball. He had got in a hit in on the first attempt. A surprise. Good. Maybe this would be better than running around the tennis court from Sakura's failed attempts of receiving his serve. He smacked it back harder this time, with much more force, grunting a bit as he did so. He was becoming competitive, his expression sharpened from before. "Hmph. Nice aim."

Naruto narrowed his eyes and grinned, huffing at the comment, but gladly soaking up the competitive spirit. Sasuke sent it back towards Naruto, who managed to hit it back once again. Naruto’s concern for including Sakura had already dissolved in the competition. Sakura could feel it tangibly in the air and it caused her to step back some. Boys. She knew her time with Sasuke was irreparably ruined.

The two boys locked gazes, scowling at each other. They knocked the tennis ball back and forth several times. Sasuke, who’d had tennis training in the past, was growing more frustrated that Naruto could keep up. For Naruto, while not being new at tennis, it was more how natural he was at picking up sports rather than specific training.

Sakura just watched their intense match, not ultimately caring that she wasn’t playing. She didn’t want to get in between them. Eventually Sasuke spiked it right to the corner of the court where Naruto couldn’t reach, and the ball bounced wildly off one side off his racket.

Finally, Sasuke lifted his chin, his gaze following the ball's trajectory. He relaxed his tensed position and let his racket fall to his side. He smirked a little to himself, his breathing escalated from the effort he hadn't expected to put in. The tennis ball had hit the net with a satisfactory smack, leaving Sasuke, as he predicted, victorious. Though he composed himself quickly, it was clear Sasuke had been worked up. Sakura noticed even from the side of the tennis court. He didn't get like that often. It took a lot to get a rise out of him. Normally he felt so removed from the circumstance, so seeing so him present now captured her attention somewhat. Naruto scowled, annoyed at losing, but began to move to the side of the court.

"Not yet, Naruto." A small smirk remained, but he was back to his detached self. Or at least, a clear attempt was being made. "The ball's in your court. You serve this time,” he instructed, blatantly ignoring Sakura and turning what was designed to be practice into a one in one match.

Naruto bent forward, bracing his hands on his legs for a moment to catch his breath. He was smiling, watching Sasuke closely. The brief fire he saw in Sasuke’s eyes was invigorating to him, then the return to his detached self made him want to laugh. At least it was tainted by that smirk remaining. Naruto had gotten through. All of this was balanced, of course, with the irritation that Sasuke got the best of him. It would have been so good to put him in his place. The ball rolled unceremoniously back towards him.

Naruto was eager to return the serve, but his gaze wandered over to Sakura, then back to Sasuke. He didn’t want to exclude her, but he also didn’t want to seem like he was backing out. But he had to make a decision.

“Ah, but Sasuke, shouldn’t it be Sakura’s turn next? I’ll serve after that.”

Sasuke's eyes dulled a little, slightly irritated at the interruption, and exasperated at the reminder. "Sakura's not at the same level. She wouldn't be able to keep up with either of us." His response was unemotional.

It was unclear if he realized how cold and cutting his words were, or if he just didn't care. But one thing that could be said about Sasuke is that he did not have a reputation for being a liar. Despite how blunt or cruel his means of delivery, when Sasuke made these kinds of statements, there was usually some truth to it.

"She can practice against the wall until we're through here."

Naruto’s smile disappeared and his eyebrows knit together. The flame in his eyes returned. He knew Sasuke would be mean, but he hadn’t expected him to go quite that far. His lip curled up. “Sasuke, what the fuck? She’s part of our group!”

Even the importance Naruto attached to their competition came nowhere near this type of talk. It’s just practicing in gym class.

Naruto looked over at Sakura, who shook her head once he made eye contact. She had no desire to be forced to spar with Sasuke. She knew he would just be dead-eyed yet aggressive and their time together wouldn’t be pleasant.

Naruto looked back at Sasuke’s cool expression, scowled anew, then went and retrieved the tennis ball. He held it for a moment, exhaled, then served.

Sakura's misgivings about Naruto were now evolving into resentment. With her head turned and face flushed, her eyes bore holes into the court. It hurt to be so obviously dismissed by Sasuke, but most of all, she did not appreciate being defended by Naruto. She had not wanted to be a group of three in the first place. She curled her fingers into a fist and quietly stalked to the side if the fence where she seated herself on the pavement. Sasuke was just stating the truth. There was not a place for her right now. The competition had become far too intense. She watched from the sidelines.

Sasuke batted the tennis ball back to him easily. "What, Naruto, did you need a break or something?" It wasn't that Sasuke held contempt over Sakura's lack of skill, he was simply loathe to break this moment of hyperfocus. Naruto had really gotten under his skin yesterday. It was gratifying to satisfy his frustration here on the tennis court. Who would have expected Naruto could hold his own on the first try? He seemed like such a goof. Still, Sasuke remained unthreatened as he again returned the tennis ball over the net with an audible huff.

Naruto’s grin returned to his face. “You wish.” He was becoming more and more angry. His knuckles were white as he clenched his racket. He saw Sakura go off by herself. He understood Sasuke being this way to him, but Sakura had clearly only ever nice to him and didn’t deserve this treatment.

He didn’t know what else to do besides keep Sasuke from winning. He returned with as much force as he could, but Sasuke was practiced and able to counter quite readily. But Naruto could keep up. Even just the thought of Sasuke was infuriating. And seeing that rare fire in his eyes was gratifying. Sasuke was working up a sweat, as equally caught in the moment. He had found himself pointedly focused and easily returning Naruto's spikes, sprinting to make certain he did. He was going to win. Still, the length of this match impressed Sasuke. Naruto didn't give up. He was able to hit it back several times. This match went on for some time.

"Sakura!" A voice addressed her harshly. "I thought I told your group long ago to get to practice!" It was the coach, who had just noticed Sakura sitting there by herself on the sidelines.

Jiraiya looked towards her, frowning. "Are they keeping you out of the game, sweetheart?"

Sakura, although angry at the events of this class, was even more annoyed at the public address from the coach. “We’re just taking turns.” She kept watching the boys spar even as she talked to him.

Naruto was too absorbed in their match to hear Jiraiya address Sakura. Just at that moment, Sasuke smacked the ball neatly across the court with a resonate "hah!". Naruto dove for it commendably, but it was just out of his reach. It hit the ground, despite his desire to decisively win. Whether the ball had touched the white line or not was debatable.

“Better luck next time, Sasuke. It hit the line.” Naruto’s voice had a competitive singsong to it.

He heard Sasuke say: “Heh. I put even you above lying about it. Guess I was wrong.”

Naruto turned and scowled at him. “It was totally on the line! Sakura, wasn’t it on the line? Who’s point is it?”

Naruto stopped when he realized Jiraiya was standing there. He dropped the racket to his side.

Sakura’s gaze as she returned Naruto’s was cold. Her arms were crossed.

“It’s Sasuke’s.”

"Hmph." Sasuke rested his racket by his side, panting a bit as he lifted his chin. He wore a short smirk, pleased with his definite results. "Better luck next time, right?" He repeated Naruto's previous jab. "Idiot."

Naruto’s eyes widened in surprise at Sakura’s certainty. His face twisted in frustration and he looked back and forth between Sakura and Sasuke. Sakura’s firmness. And then Sasuke’s smirk. He finally realized again how he was the “other” here. The only saving grace was the fact Sasuke was out of breath, if only for a moment.

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes as Naruto sputtered indignantly, overwhelmed by his betrayal and defeat. Just as Sasuke turned his back dismissively, he pointed at the arguing boys.

"You two." He began.

"Not only have you two failed to include Sakura as a part of your team, but your nonstop bickering is giving me a headache. Give me 10 laps."

The groups around them had stopped their excersize and were now watching the debacle, particularly now that Jiraiya had addressed them.

Naruto had to use an unholy amount of effort to unclench his fist from the racket, allowing it to clatter to the ground. 10 laps it was.

Sleighted, Sasuke cast an indignant glance towards the coach before putting his head down, still catching his breath. His racket's clatter followed Naruto's as he pursed his lips for a moment, staring at the pavement. This again.

He made his way around the courts, making sure he was outpacing Naruto enough to avoid talking with him.

Naruto was angry, but he was also upset that he’d been denied any social support. He knew he was new and that Sakura was biased toward Sasuke, sickeningly so, but it still felt like a kick to the stomach.

At first he wanted to ignore Sasuke, but he found himself unable to let his adversary outpace him. So he did his best to keep up. For once, though, Naruto didn’t have much to say.


	5. Superflat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deidara and Itachi share one other class -- the only 2D class Deidara couldn't avoid taking.

Deidara’s new intrusive thought was not mysterious in nature at all. In fact, it was too clear as to its source. Every time he’d thought about this Friday studio class all week, the same thought came to mind: “I’m Itachi. I paint.”

The only class Deidara had on his schedule that had anything to do with painting was this one on Friday. And it wouldn’t leave him alone. When it came into his head he would repeat it in an exaggerated voice to try to get it to release its hold on him.

That guy. Deidara grinned to himself. So deceptively simple. Hopefully he’ll be in this class too. Dusty sunlight filtered through the narrow rectangular windows, illuminating smears of caked paint that had long since dried on the floor.

Shadow. Feature shadow. Of course. Deidara straddled his stool, scrutinizing the warm-up prompt written on the board. He’d been overcome with a nervous energy and had arrived for class early. All the painting supplies around the room annoyed him. He much preferred sculpture. The easel was too tall. He spent some time messing with it.

Shisui had walked Itachi the majority of the way to his studio before parting ways. Shisui had grinned, given him a thumbs up, and reminded Itachi of his upcoming visit. He was excited to get to spend time with his cousins again. He read Itachi’s demeanor one last time, then they parted ways. Even though he was busy, Shisui thought of Itachi often. But their schedules were so busy. Couldn't be helped after all. At least Shisui had promised him time on Sunday, and as long as he'd known him, Shisui had always been a man of his word. Until then, Itachi would get through the week. This was his last class for today, which meant he'd have time to stop for groceries or run errands before traffic picked up. He was already planning out the rest of his day as he walked into the third floor studio.

He paused and then put his backpack down, pulling out an old discolored long sleeve shirt. he began to exchange the sweater he was wearing with this one to avoid making any messes on his typically dark clothes.

If he had noticed Deidara, he was ignoring him.

Deidara, on the contrary, was not ignoring him. The moment Itachi came in, the air in the room seemed to change. His eyes flickered to the door, where he studied his attempt at an unassuming entrance, away from the present and deep in thought. Itachi walked right by him, seeming to not notice Deidara was there at all. But Deidara’s gaze was following him even as he remained still on his seat. Itachi raised his arms to pull his sweater off, then pull the new shirt on. Deidara did not break his stare. He let Itachi perform, somehow graceful at a usually clumsy task. It was strange to see Itachi in lighter colors. Though they had met once, the image of him in all black was striking and memorable. Seeing him in white, though dirtied, seemed a bit like catching him at home on a Sunday morning. A smile crept onto his face.

“It’s Itachi the Painter.”

Itachi turned his attention towards his name as if he was surprised he wasn’t the only person in the room. He’d likely been too deep in thought. Itachi was used to being among the first to class, but twice now, someone else had come first.

"Deidara...." Itachi said his name with a quiet surprise, as if he’d discovered a rare bird outside his window. It was like he was analyzing the taste of it, so it felt to Deidara like a wide comb through his hair.

Itachi paused. "Funny we'd meet again so quickly," he said flatly, engaging him in eye contact. There was another pause, and he looked back toward the board. "It's good to see you."

The eye contact from Itachi was short but it was savored. “Is it now?” Deidara grinned. “And. I get to see Itachi in his natural habitat.”

Itachi stared through the board in front of them, his eyebrows rising just a bit at Deidara's comment. He looked down and smiled, shutting his eyes briefly. "Hm." He made a small laugh.

Deidara's voice was so naturally loud. Even speaking quietly to one person,his voice resonated in the empty studio. It reminded him of Sasuke when he was younger.

"I wouldn't call it natural." Itachi’s voice was so quiet in comparison.

Deidara must dislike him quite a bit. Itachi was familiar with this. Because he struggled to connect with the people around him, he knew he had a reputation for being elusive and stuck up. Having a success like Shisui as a cousin only made things worse for those who were involved with current affairs. It was a shame. Itachi found in him a soft spot for Deidara, as loud and cocky as he was. But people will think what they want. This Deidara certainly seemed to possess the kind of demeanor that was prone to project his emotions on his immediate surroundings.

Deidara didn’t care how loud he was. It didn’t even cross his mind. He just kept watching Itachi closely. Those long feathery eyelashes. Itachi wasn’t completely wrong. He was so infuriating.

Deidara finally shut his eyes, smiling. “Then where is your natural habitat?”

Deidara wasn’t even sure what his deal was. He did know he was incredibly intrigued at the notion that he will get to see Itachi create, as well as be a witness to his creative process.

"It's hard to say."

Itachi was clearly not with it today. From the moment he had stepped in, his mind had been elsewhere, and whether he realized it or not, Deidara was cutting closer to relevant and personal emotions than he would prefer. Sometimes it felt so innocuous. Pursuing an art career at an expensive school. Sometimes it didn't feel right at all, turning something that had begun as a personal hobby into something so frivolous and overblown.

"For now, I'm here for as long as they'll have me," he responded structurally, with a slight note of fatigue. Itachi was also reminded that due to his school history not many colleges were impressed by his record. His choices were slim, especially after the current circumstances that mandated he stay local.

Deidara could sense he struck a chord. The god wasn’t so unreachable today. Even from several feet away, the clouds around him seemed turbulent. Deidara felt a certain respect that was rare for him to feel. Things didn’t usually convince him to keep a respectful distance. But he didn’t stop staring at those eyes. Where were they? They seemed to be away from here.

“I have a feeling you’re underselling yourself, Itachi the painter.”

He smirked. His gaze fell to Itachi’s hands. Graceful, like the rest of him, even at rest. It was infuriating. Did he ever have a hair out of place?

Itachi found himself thinking about his bedroom with the blinds shut and laying down with a glass of water by his bed post. Maybe he just needed some coffee. "What about you, Deidara. You aren't known for your painting. Why are you here?"

“You see, they don’t let one only take 3D courses. This one was ‘figure’ so. Close enough. Anyways, painting is just putting clay onto a canvas.” Deidara tilted his head, his hair cascading to one side.

Without moving his head, Itachi looked to his left at Deidara. He was pretty fresh, and once more, he detected a small humor of resentment in his classmate's delivery. Deidara kept staring directly at his face, even when he faced away. It was aggressive.

Itachi said nothing for a beat, then responded, looking away. "Well then I'm sure you'll excel at it." His delivery was straight, if not muted, but it was clear he was unimpressed.

Deidara saw he’d ruffled Itachi’s feathers. It really didn’t seem to take much today. He realized it probably wasn’t even truly Deidara who could take the credit for shaking Itachi’s resolve. Something was on his mind.

Deidara hummed lazily. “You don’t seem convinced.” He finally broke eye contact, making an exaggeratedly thoughtful face at the prompt on the board.

At this point a few people had trickled into the studio and had begun to set up. Itachi looked down at his backpack before rummaging through it for his utility box full of paint and his palette.

"Then convince me."

Deidara laughed, once again throwing his head back and letting his hair tumble down. “I shall.”

Another element of hilarity to him was that he had also seen none of Itachi’s work. And Deidara still thought Itachi was familiar with his, at least somewhat. Itachi, here, was somehow the ultimate judge. But Deidara loved it. Let him be the judge. That made his chest swell in excitement. He leaned back and dramatically tied up his hair.

Again, the class’ attention was directed over to a laughing Deidara. It appeared they weren't yet used to it.

Itachi decided to ignore Deidara's last little exclamation. He’d lost interest, and the blonde's intentions did not feel the most hospitable right now. Still, hew was interested in what Deidara would create.

In actuality, Deidara was probably more intrigued by the idea of what Itachi would create. He leaned back really far in his seat but then finally settled and looked at his canvas.

There was a twinge of anxiety, but he did not label it as such. He translated it as competition, as eagerness and frustration. “Shadow....” echoed the chalk on the board. Ok.

Deidara set to work, pulling out his materials. He kept glancing over at Itachi, who had set out his paints delicately on the table. Even with his canvas turned away, Deidara was still interested in seeing Itachi’s process. How he organized. How he moved. How he made decisions. But then he tore his eyes away. What the fuck. Why did it matter.

He set to work. His methods were decidedly....non traditional. He ended up with paint smeared all over his hands and pretty much up to his elbows. But at least he was producing something.

Itachi sat neatly in front of his canvas, squeezing out paint onto his palette before mixing and separating colors into his desired color scheme. It seemed that this was a free-formed warm up assignment. The prompt was purposefully vague and there lacked any reference material that would usually indicate a common direction, so Itachi decided to paint with style, as this class appeared to focus on repurposing learned skills rather than just building up the basics.

He chose a wide, flat brush and worked around the canvas before developing the shapes before him into something more delicate. His hair spilled just a bit out of his loose ponytail by his shoulders, and he kept wiping his loose strands away with his arm, focused on the assignment.

They were given two and a half hours to complete this task, which Itachi found himself filling up easily. When their time ran out, the professor would wander around the room for a quick and private critique to understand her students’ styles and to gather a bit of insight into her students’ processes and skill levels.

Itachi put his brushes down on the table next to him. His hands had also become coated with small streaks of warm colored paints. For the first time since they spoke, Itachi glanced back over towards Deidara, who had become a bit unraveled during the class. It appeared as a part of his process, as he also seemed absolute in his focus towards his piece, leaning back slightly with his knees propped up on the bars of his stool, paintbrush in hand with another in his mouth. Time was up, however, and Itachi observed the small sound of flat shoes headed in their direction.

Good. When this class was over he could wash up, head home, and be finished.

The professor first stopped by Deidara, putting a hand on his shoulder lightly so he would notice her presence, which he’d otherwise ignored, still absorbed in his piece. Itachi could see the look on her face did not indicate that her first critique would go so well.

It had been some time since Deidara had his basics class and to be honest, he often disdained a lot of the advice. Painting was so two-dimensional, but his theories on how to make it have more shape were quite nontraditional. He would have rather watched Itachi paint, as he had done for the first few minutes. He was almost irritated by the professor approaching. He hadn’t realized how long it had been. Itachi could sense the impending negative critique.

What Deidara had realized was even in his strong classes, he somewhat held a pride in defying what the professors seemed to want. It wasn’t novel if you just did as they dictated. He couldn’t have that. And a flat canvas. There is one perspective. How could you shock with one moment, not even enhanced by a 360 degree view, or even better, a motion or event.

Itachi watched from behind his canvas as Deidara looked like he was doing all he could not to propel himself out the third story window. His eyes had completely glazed over and his minimal responses were strangely subdued and distant. He was so quiet Itachi could barely make out what was being said, a stark and peculiar contrast from everything Itachi had come to learn about Deidara these past few days. As the professor waved her hand over the canvas, muttering about emphasis and form, Itachi could not help a part of him from feel slightly heartbroken for Deidara. He wasn't even a painter. More so, however, Itachi just found himself more and more interested in the subject of his professor's critique.

The professor put her hand again on Deidara's shoulder, a gesture of good intention. Itachi could feel the icy cringe radiate from Deidara, his eyes now cold with a reigned-in expression of resentment. Their eyes met briefly, catching himself under that severe gaze. Itachi looked away. Though it wasn't his business, really, he couldn’t seem to ignore it.

Deidara tried his best to disengage. He knew being rude would destroy his chances in the class on day one. He kept thinking about what Itachi had said. It’s supposed to make you think. But the professor hadn’t thought about it at all. Clearly he wished he’d had more time, but his true interests lied in being subversive to the norms. To break the rules.

The oil paints were so glossy. But so flat. At least with others he could build up texture. Could make layers of matte shapes.

He’d survived through the professor’s comments. Whatever.  He looked at his canvas. Critiques like those usually actually made him appreciate his pieces more. Itachi the painter though. He doubted it.

As Deidara had expected, the professor slid over to Itachi's painting with praise on her lips, her suggestions polite, minimal, and generally positive. Itachi sat there with his hands on his lap, occasionally nodding but contributing nothing back. Deidara noticed bitterly that the professor did not attempt that sad pat on the back for Itachi. Just an encouraging "Keep it up." He sighed to himself and got up to clean his brushes.

Itachi looked down at his hands, feeling Deidara's bitterness from across the room at the sink. After a pause, Itachi picked himself up to join him. He wanted to head home.

Deidara looked behind his shoulder for a moment, saw Itachi approaching, and quickly looked back down, scrubbing his palette off with renewed vigor.

It was explicit that he was not wanted right now. This felt familiar. Itachi was not intimidated by Deidara’s attitude or rivalry. He brought himself to the sink next to him, practically towering over it, at least from Deidara's perspective. He looked over at the paint smeared across Dei's forearms. His colors were bold, only muddling now under a fountain of water. Feeling his stare, Deidara cut his eyes warningly at Itachi, who noticed a smear of black paint on his forehead above his right eye. Itachi opened his mouth slightly, drawing in a small breath. Deidara squinted further.

"You…." Itachi begun, measured and cautious.

Normally Deidara would have some sort of comment, some sort of outburst, but he felt an apathy to it. The bubble of energy formed but then collapsed in his chest. Also, Itachi was the type who might not continue if interrupted. But Deidara wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. So he didn’t speak, just kept washing his brushes.

Deidara had expected Itachi to be flawless. There was no surprise involved at all. He had very conflicting notions of rebellion against these non-visionary art authorities and pride at his aberrations but also the feeling of being exposed as a disappointment. So he just smirked.

When Deidara realized what Itachi was pointing at, he abruptly inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut. Of course. Itachi was silent, just pointing. Deidara began the slow process of getting it off.

He wasn’t sure why Itachi would have anything to say to him.

Honestly, though he didn't wear it on his sleeve, Itachi was hurting for him some right now. Deidara looked so defeated, entangled in his own frustrations. As he tried to wash it off, he’d only succeeded in angrily smearing the black paint further across his forehead. He couldn’t see what he was doing.

Again, Itachi struggled around his own words. "No-- You...." He lifted his hand a bit, watching his peer struggle tensely and fail. It looked a lot worse. Deidara could read it on Itachi's face.

Deidara bit his lip, feeling Itachi’s eyes on him. All his appeal and banter were lost to him. He was just small and scowling here, a tall god pointing out his flaws.

But this oil paint on his face. A death sentence. He knew the first try would be mostly a smear but there was little else he could do. He grabbed another towel from the dispenser on the wall. At least he wasn’t rushing to another class. He tried hard not to writhe under Itachi’s scrutiny.

Yeah. He’d won. Whatever.

Itachi was now frowning down at Deidara. He couldn't stand watching him make any more of a mess, and his demeanor created a still and anxious energy for anyone caught in it. The paint was still there. He couldn’t seem to move out of Deidara’s way.

Without any more hesitation, Itachi took one of his unused paper towels and wiped the remainder of the paint off of Deidara's forehead, his free hand resting on his temple to keep his head still. He firmly rubbed the remaining smears away, making sure his job was thorough. It rubbed a little raw on the skin, but he was determined to get the paint off.

Deidara’s heart stopped. It went from the horrible deafening racing to sudden silence. He watched that face study him, those dark eyes hold him suspended. The touch came almost as a shock to him. Deidara couldn’t help it. He felt so dizzy but he barely stayed upright.

Itachi stopped, lifted the paper towel up to check for any remaining mess, and crumpled the stained paper towel in his hands, then lowered them back down to his sides.

But once that hand was gone, Deidara missed it. The touch was firm but was still somehow so tender. Deidara flushed, against every hope he had that he wouldn’t. “....thanks.”

Itachi looked down at Deidara, his eyes serious and giving away little. The paper towel stayed crumpled in his hand, and he watched the little red spot where Deidara's paint had been fade into his skin. His cheeks were flushing visibly now, though. Itachi was reconsidering his actions. He did not intend on further embarrassing him--in fact, he had intended on the opposite. Still, his mind replayed the previous scene of Deidara's visceral cringe at the friendly touch of their painting professor. Itachi's eyes looked to the side before he turned back to finish cleaning his painting tools. He shook his head and reset his focus to pack up and leave once and for all, intent on shutting out any more interaction with his peer for the day.

Deidara felt like he’d lost his hearing. A quiet high pitched ringing struck him for quite some time before it felt gray and muffled, then slowly normal again.

He was furious. He was so mad and didn’t really understand it. Itachi had just unceremoniously turned and returned to pack up his things. Deidara exaggerated how much longer he needed to clean his brushes. His hands shook and he narrowly avoided dropping them in the sink. He wanted to kick something. His bowing to Itachi so soon after his challenge. His thanks. It tormented him.

It seemed to take years but he finally could leave that room. He couldn’t imagine the strength he’d need to return.


	6. A Piece of Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deidara discusses his day with Sasori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration by brunch!

 

On the way back to his apartment, Deidara apparently instilled fear in people he passed, despite his small stature. They gave him his space as he half stomped, half dragged his feet home. At the door to his apartment as he juggled his keys, he made his first attempt to calm his intensity. Something about revealing it to Sasori irked him. His roommate always observed him with that judgmental face of his. Deidara didn’t take it personally, as he’d known him long enough to know that he presented that face to everyone, but he wanted to do what he could not to invite scrutiny. So he tried his best to wipe the scowl from his face and calm his steps. He opened the door and set his bag into his desk chair, then fell face first onto his bed.

Though Deidara had not noticed when he entered the room, Sasori was seated cross legged in his office chair, hunched over his desk, working on some new personal project. He held a tiny screwdriver in one hand, which he set down softly before slowly swivelling around to face his roommate’s dramatic entrance. He was dressed in jeans and a button up, indicating that he had left the house today. When, Deidara didn't know. Sasori somehow was always already there, waiting, to observe his homecomings.

"Already?"

Sasori was exasperated, but his voice was dull. It was the first week of classes and Dei was already returning injured from his day.

"What could have possibly happened to you."

He delivered what seemed more like a comment than a question without a detectable sense of concern.

Deidara wasn’t surprised to see Sasori. In fact, it would be strange if he wasn’t. He took a long moment to answer, his face in his pillow. But when he finally did, it was an irritated “...shut up.”

No matter what, Sasori could always discern when something had happened. Even if Deidara tried not to show much. He did admit, though, that he hadn’t tried very hard today.

But Sasori was patient. Just crunched on whatever it was he was eating. “This is fast even for you.”

Deidara finally lifted his head and scowled at him. “....Just can’t stand people. Who does he think he is?”

No matter what, it seemed like he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. His mouth always ran and ran to Sasori.

But Sasori's eyes dulled at that last comment.

Boy trouble.

It was all so tedious and inane, and it followed Deidara around like a sickness. Deidara just did not get along with most people, and his feelings for others were mercurial and often one-sided. Sasori had the option of swivelling back around and leaving it at that but his schedule was completely open for the rest of the day so....he took the bait.

"Who."

Sasori’s voice was monotonous, but Deidara’s ability to keep his floodgates shut was very weak, especially when he was experiencing such distress. His emotions always came forcefully and turbulently. He wrinkled his nose and laid his head back down.

“I haven’t ever seen him before. But he just comes in there and he’s perfect! And he knows it. And he looks down on everyone.” He hid his face again and clutched his hair in his hands. Weirdly there were fewer words than usual. All he really wanted to do was yell and groan.

Unblinkingly, Sasori watched from his chair which he tucked himself neatly in.

"You’re sounding quite insecure right now."

Sasori highlighted Deidara’s expression of vulnerability. It was by no means an attempt at empathy, but rather more of a warning. If anything it just came as a surprise. Deidara was a well known narcissist.

Sasori looked down at his sleeve of Ritz which he had abandoned and frowned. "Really though, Deidara, it's not like you to be so easily intimidated."

He looked directly at his roommate, a bored and noticeably irritated expression on his face, clearly unimpressed.

Deidara lifted his head and glared at him sideways. “I’m not intimidated. Who said that?? It’s just really irritating. That professor was fawning over him too. All that and she didn’t see my vision.” He turned over on his back and sighed. “Why are all the professors like that. They can’t see innovation.”

Deidara knew he was intimidated. His mind switched back and forth from thinking about him and being repulsed by him. He was dizzy.

"I must have misunderstood," Sasori answered dryly, a clearly false conceit.

"Who could have showed you up, Deidara? On the first day of studio no less."

His hand wandered to his bracelet on his opposite wrist as he lifted his chin a little to get a better look at his roommate. His interest was a bit piqued.

“Showed me up, my ass.” Deidara laughed. “They just can’t handle my work. Haven’t seen anything like it before.” But then he frowned at the ceiling. “He....Maybe you’ve seen him before, hm. ....Itachi.” It was impossible for his mouth to say it without lingering on it, like a mint dissolving on his tongue. It made him angry. “Long black hair. Walks around like he’s some sort of god.” He chewed on his lip.

"Itachi....."

Sasori pronounced the syllables carefully, as if hearing it would help jog his memory. By the way Deidara had described him, he sounded like quite the persona. Sasori touched his bracelet and squinted his eyes, thinking, before pulling out his phone from his back pocket. There was a long pause, leaving Deidara to his own racing monologue of thoughts, before Sasori swiveled over to his roommate's cot and placed his phone in front of his face. With his free hand he pointed to the screen.

"You mean him? Shisui's cousin?"

Sasori had spent a year longer on campus, and his circle of contacts apparently reached farther towards the elite than Deidara’s did. He had pulled up Itachi Uchiha's empty Facebook page. The first post was from a year and a half ago, and his last post from over the summer. There were probably three clear pictures of him available total on his profile, but Sasori had already pulled one up. He certainly fit the bill.

"What did he do to you?"

Deidara opened his mouth. He did not expect Sasori to know who he was. A layer of privacy had just been peeled away. The image on the phone stared down at him for a moment, then he narrowed his eyes. He felt nauseous all of a sudden. “Yeah.” His mouth was dry. His eyes wouldn’t let him tear them away. He’d already forgotten. Shisui’s cousin. But Itachi wasn’t like Shisui at all. Deidara then stared dully at his roommate. He didn’t really know where he was going with this. Then he shifted his gaze to the wall. “....He just acts like he owns the place.” Maybe it was an Uchiha thing. But Shisui usually did own the place, at least, in terms of success and energy.

Sasori had stopped answering. He offered a half hearted nod to Deidara's spiel, now preoccupied on his phone, scrolling through social media to get a look of this guy Deidara was so hung up on. Sasori was vaguely acquainted with Shisui though some event to which he’d been invited through the University, but Itachi was new to him. He was good at what he did. The few pictures if artwork that did appear reminded Sasori of a familiar aesthetic, strangely dark but with a deceptively unthreatened nature. He was beginning to see where Deidara's insecurities lay and where his obsession was formed.

"I’d let it go." Sasori finally addressed him. "It's dangerous. He's one of those elite types." He began typing on his phones keyboard.

Deidara glared at his definitive advice. “Dangerous? What could you possibly mean by that, hm?”

He leaned over to begin trying to claw Sasori’s phone away from him.

"I mean he’s out of your league." Sasori brushed him off firmly, jerking away so Deidara couldn't reach his phone.

"Do I really have to spell it out? Why are you so dense?" Sasori had become momentarily agitated at Deidara's hands over his phone, causing his voice to ride with a harsher tone than usual. He glared for a moment, then composed himself, settling back into his unphased expression, almost as if reconsidering his sharpness. He returned to his phone.

Deidara glared at him more forcefully for the sleight, then finally gave up trying to grab his phone. He was somewhat used to comments like that. “Wow.” He paused, frowning.

"Regardless." he took a breath in. "I invited him to the design conference I'm attending Tuesday."

This event, of course, was a networking event with alumni of various other prestigious art schools and agencies. It was an event for upperclassmen.

"Shisui will be there. Judging by how close they are I feel Itachi would have a hard time refusing."

Sasori shut off his phone.

“And why haven’t I heard about this yet, hm? Itachi’s in my year.” Deidara crossed his arms. It seems like he couldn’t play it cool around anyone today. Sasori was generally very capable of unlocking his thoughts, in general. “And what do you suggest I do? Just sit around here and make boring art all by myself?”

"Whatever boring art you make will probably be more interesting than this." Sasori leaned forward in his chair, still sitting cross-legged, looking boredly at Deidara. "But to be fair. You weren't invited in the first place."

Deidara laid on his back, scowling at the ceiling and crossing his arms. He didn’t want to let it go. He never made the connections enough to go to these things. Even the professors that dared egg him on would never specifically suggest him. Itachi hovered in front of his eyes.

“....gonna come up with a good painting project,” he muttered to himself. He was a masterful artist. A genius. This was only a small obstacle.

Sasori's unwavering gaze fell a little lighter on Deidara. there was a certain satisfaction accompanied with being able to deflate Deidara's ego. Still, his persistence was admirable. Sasori almost smiled, but instead, offered him his sleeve of Ritz.

"Well. You have until Tuesday to scrounge up something presentable to wear."

Deidara was more excited about it than he knew he would be, but he did everything he could to hide it from Sasori. His ego had been dragged through the mud today multiple times. There was no saving face but he could do his best to keep it from getting worse. He turned his face towards him and smirked, just narrowing his eyes at him. He slid his hand into the bag and took a few crackers. He bit on the edge of one. “What I’m going to wear. Now that’s a good question.”


	7. Only One Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shisui visits Itachi and Sasuke.

Shisui did everything he could to clear his schedule on Sunday. He worked late into the evening Friday to edit some of his photos, then made sure to drop off his dry cleaning Saturday so he could pick it up Sunday. How dull. Dry cleaning. When did he get so boring? He smirked to himself. He finally got back into his car. Alright, he thought. Time to head to their house. He never wanted to come empty handed, so he always stopped by the store too. He’d mainly wanted to bring pastries but he knew they weren’t Sasuke’s favorite. It always took more thought to find a gift for Sasuke. It really had been awhile since he’d seen him. He was glad he could rectify that today. The traffic was never bad Sunday, so he got there by lunchtime. He took the bag in his hand and walked up the the front door.

There was no answer to the door for some time. Shisui glanced back just to be certain, but both cars were parked in the driveway. They should be here. Soft footsteps finally came from inside, and after a moment, he could hear a voice calling out Itachi's name. Sasuke. Again, he called out for his brother, this time a little louder and with less patience. Some hushed mumbling ensued before once again, Sasuke padded to the door. He pulled it open plainly, facing his older cousin.

"Sorry. Itachi's in his room...." He mumbled, slightly agitated. He stepped aside, allowing room for Shisui to enter, his eyes drawn to the bag in his hands.

"You know you don't have to knock, right? You can just come in." Sasuke delivered his offer bluntly, but his intentions were generally soft.

Shisui smiled, his eyes soft. “Hi Sasuke.” It really had been awhile but Sasuke was the same. And that always came as a relief to him. He always felt like things would be changing even as he watched. It’s why he liked photography. A still from one concrete time. It won’t be changing.

Shisui slid off his shoes and stepped inside. It had been awhile since he’d been here. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to still live in his parents’ house like they did. But then again, he didn’t know what it was like. He looked around. More of the familiar but all details he’d forgotten. The table by the front door where they put their keys. The mirror. The wood.

“Itachi sleep in?” He smiled at the thought. He doubted it. “It’s your day off Sasuke, I hope you’re taking it easy.”

As Sasuke shut the door, Itachi's door creaked open. He made his way down the hallway to join the small reunion. When Shisui heard, he looked towards Itachi and waved slightly.

Itachi and Sasuke were the same. They acknowledged his presence with a familiarity that didn't call for shallow greetings, feeling at ease enough to just be. Itachi simply lifted his head to gauge the scene and floated over. Still, the house contained a sterile and empty atmosphere, accentuated by the lack of noise amongst themselves. They wandered over to the kitchen so Shisui could set down his bag.

"Shisui you don't need to bring food everytime you come over....it never gets eaten...." Itachi complained softly. His cousin was too doting. Besides, Sasuke was spoiled and never ate half the food in the fridge as it was. It was a friendly but altogether wasted gesture. Itachi scratched his ankle with his socked foot nervously.

"Itachi already prepared lunch," Sasuke translated, reaching for a glass from the cabinet.

Shisui laughed lightly. “That’s why I didn’t bring lunch. I just brought snacks.” Anyways, he knew their preferences well enough he didn’t mind just leaving them here. He never wanted to come empty-handed. So he set them on the counter. Something sweet for Itachi. He’d had a strong sweet tooth since he was little. But Sasuke was more difficult. Something with salt, he guessed. He didn’t like sweets. In years past, Shisui remembered seeing him working on his math homework, crunching on something to help him remember.

Shisui looked up, smiling brightly at Itachi. “I’m excited to hear what you made. Your food always ends up being the highlight of my day.” He laughed again. He was somebody who seemed perfectly at ease even if he was the only one laughing. It did seem, however, to echo in this house.

It did not go unnoticed by the two brothers, standing on each of Shisui's sides. Both of their gazes fell some, too polite to say anything. It was dually comforting and jarring. Shisui truly had been missed,  just seemed so foreign right now in this lighting. He seemed transient, and the laughter, though encouraging, was not quite enough to support the atmosphere.

One corner of Shisui’s lip tilted upward apologetically. He noticed it that time. It seemed like he’d gone too far. Normally he would hardly even notice. 

Itachi shook his head lightly. "It's just soba." A easy and quick dish he had been refrigerating in preparation for his cousin’s visit.

“It still sounds good to me.” His voice lowered and was gentle. “There’s something about it. If Itachi made it, it’ll be great.” He insisted, knowing very well that Itachi still wouldn’t accept. He always felt inclined to press somewhat further, though.

"We can set up in the living room." Itachi’s voice was flat, but Shisui didn’t take it personally.

Shisui blinked and dipped his head. He turned to the cupboard and began gathering dishes. Strangely the muscle memory came to him where each component would be, even if he couldn’t have described where it was before he arrived.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Itachi was clearly a bit embarrassed in that quiet and reserved way he had, his eyes cutting downward briefly.

"We know. Itachi’s exceptional," he said dryly. His condescension was light this time, an exasperated exchange directed at his brother.

Itachi further cut his eyes at Sasuke, but otherwise didn't react. Could he not be civil for 15 minutes? They hadn't seen Shisui in a while.

Shisui laughed. He knew he sounded funny, but he really meant it. He looked between the two brothers. Seeing them jab at each other was almost refreshing. The smile lingered on his face. He carried what he could from the kitchen to set the table in the living room. Sasuke followed with Shisui's bags, carrying a bottle of tea in the other hand.

Shisui was bright even if it was dim in the room. “I’m hungry.” He knelt by the table, holding his hands after he set out what he’d carried.

Itachi placed the bowl of chilled noodles on the table before kneeling to join them. He proceeded to serve everyone, starting with Shisui, filling each small dish with mentsyu for dipping. All together, it was a simple and light lunch, noodles decorated with jullienned cucumbers, sesame, and scallions. Still, somehow, Itachi understood the correct way to prepare it, and the casual neatness of the dish succeeded in lifting the atmosphere.

Shisui wasn’t exaggerating about how much he looked forward to Itachi’s food, even if it was a simple dish. He always had the perfect balance. Itachi’s dishes were always seemingly simple and neat, even if they were quite complicated. He began to eat quite happily. Even Sasuke began to eat in his delicate way.

Pouring the bottle of tea, Itachi began: "How was New York, Shisui. We didn't have enough time to catch up last time we met."

Sasuke's interest was piqued and he decided to pay attention. He was interested in life outside of this insular town.

After his bite, Shisui answered. “It was so exciting! The gallery was small but the staff were incredible. I met so many people I never dreamed I would get to meet. I never knew anyone would be so interested in my work.” He shut his eyes and smiled. “We should go there together sometime. There are so many places to go.”

Itachi offered a small smile in response. It sounded nice, but they both knew their schedules ran at different times these days, and Itachi had a place here as head of this house now, and he did not yet feel comfortable leaving. He wished he could.

"I'm glad your work was well received." He continued smiling. 

"Oh-- speaking of which. The recruitment agency which scored you, they will be at the design conference this Tuesday? I was invited by an upperclassman."

Shisui liked Itachi’s smile a lot. It was so rare. “Ah! Yes, they will be. I should introduce you. If it’s the same woman, I can assure you she is very warm and easy to talk to.” 

Familiar wrinkles framed Shisui’s eyes. “I look forward to when I can go see your work in a gallery.” He shut his eyes again and took another bite. “All three of us can go sometime,” he pressed again, this time looking at Sasuke. “Maybe if Itachi is exhibiting.”

Sasuke returned Shisui's pressuring with a soulless stare directly back into his eyes.

"It'd be difficult to get the time off."

Shisui bit his lip. This time it falling flat struck him some. But he recovered quickly. He took another bite, dipping it. 

Itachi stared blankly down at his plate, hands on his knees. Sasuke had been nothing but antagonistic since Shisui arrived. It was beginning to definitively sour things.

He smiled calmly, diverting. "Well, Shisui, what's in the bag anyway?"

Shisui looked up again gently. He began pulling the items out. “Ah yeah. I brought Sasuke some baguette.” He gestured to Sasuke.

“And you some dango. Can you believe I found that? And some, uh, wine.” The wine was out of habit. He usually brought some for Itachi. He felt awkward pulling it out in front of Sasuke, but it was all in the same bag.

Itachi flashed a glance at Shisui. "Wine? Really?" He questioned in a subtle half laugh. They had shared plenty of bottles together in the past, but just pulling one out in front of Sasuke like that -- that was new.

Sasuke finished the last of his tea and placed his now empty glass on the table, his eyes flashing a little. Only Shisui here was old enough to drink.

It wasn't that Sasuke hated Shisui, or even disliked him. In fact, he cared for him quite a bit and probably didn’t even intend to come off so hostile either, but again, he found himself playing the antagonist. He was just tired of these anecdotes which revolved around his older brother and the detached world he occupied. Still, the offering was thoughtful, and Sasuke reconsidered his terse attitude. 

Shisui did know that a lot of the talk revolved around Itachi and he felt bad. He wanted to get to know Sasuke, too. He always held back. He’d spent years getting past Itachi’s impossible defenses, but he was still new to Sasuke’s. Shisui knew he was just as interesting as Itachi was. He hoped the baguette was good. He didn’t know what he liked as well, so it was more difficult to pick out something to offer him.

Shisui knew that when he left bottles of wine here, it wasn’t just Itachi drinking them. He glanced at Itachi to make sure it was okay. “Well I figured we should include Sasuke. I haven’t heard much about what’s going on with him.” He set the wine on the table. “I’m going to go get the corkscrew.”

Itachi let it be. He too knew about Sasuke's habit of sneaking wine but in all honesty it didn't bother him much. He and Shisui had shared plenty of alcohol between each other at his age as well. Besides, Itachi was his brother, not his parent. He continued sitting on his knees, hands on his thighs, waiting patiently for Shisui to return. He had decided to involve Sasuke this once, for better or for worse.

Shisui shortly returned with a corkscrew.

"Here, Shisui, let me." Itachi outstretched his hands to take the bottle.

Sasuke waited skeptically, watching his brother's moves as he popped the cork off. Itachi took Sasuke's glass and filled it first.

"Well as I've told you, Sasuke's very busy these days you know."

Shisui folded his legs again, tucking his socked feet under his knees. He knew he was making waves but he always felt like Sasuke fell by the wayside. Shisui hated the feeling he got when he thought of that. 

He passed the glass to Sasuke. “Yeah I’ve heard! Making a name for yourself, huh?” He turned to sasuke, smiling brightly. He grasped the glass when Itachi handed him his, then took a sip.

Sasuke looked down at his glass for a moment, over the bridge of his nose. It felt almost suspicious, like drinking with cops, the way Itachi and Shisui just offered him the glass. He’d turned 16 only recently. Itachi himself was only 20. Still, the drink was welcome. Maybe everyone could benefit from loosening up a little in order to keep up with Shisui's social and quick temperament. With that thought, he looked at his cousin and lifted the glass to his lips. The taste did not phase him, he set the glass back down again dryly without expression or reaction.

Shisui knew that Sasuke would feel a bit awkward, but he sipped his while he waited for Sasuke’s answer. He really did hope it would help him loosen up. The anxiety of his cousins tangibly buzzed between them. He tried not to look too long at Sasuke to avoid making him too nervous, but it was remarkable. When did he get so old?

"I was recently promoted at work."

Sasuke couldn’t hide the very small sense of pride in sharing this with Shisui despite his flat delivery. He went ahead and took another swig. "I could be manager by the time I graduate."

Shisui lit up. “Congratulations Sasuke! You always work hard and they saw it.” He glanced down at his glass. “And if anyone can be a manager so early, it’s you.” His voice rang earnest.

Itachi watched Sasuke take his second sip, and followed soon after. It's true. Sasuke was never around anymore. He was too busy with work.

Sasuke paused for a moment before looking back down at his glass. Maintaining his composure, his face flushed just so slightly. It felt good when Shisui complimented you. With anyone else Sasuke would have dismissed it as disingenuous or irrelevant, but with Shisui....strangely it felt real. Almost nostalgic. Sasuke could feel his face heating up a little, but who was to say that wasn't the alcohol? He had finished his first glass before either his brother or cousin. His mouth was left dry with the aftertaste of red wine.

Shisui could tell he struck a chord with him. He really hasn’t expected that. Even if Sasuke remained aloof, he would have understood. He’d just felt awful time had passed by so quickly he hadn’t seen Sasuke in so long. Even the time seeing Itachi hadn’t been enough, and seeing Sasuke was just a fraction of that. And something made him feel like he wouldn’t always have the chance. They weren’t kids anymore. He took another sip, then shut his eyes and scrunched his nose. He always made himself feel so old and it was so funny to him.

Itachi smiled a small smile for him. "So quick, Sasuke." He gestured to his empty glass.

Shisui smiled at Sasuke’s empty glass too. He reached for it. “Tell me about what you do there. It must take so much energy to run such a busy place.”

Sasuke's head felt lighter than before as he lifted his chin to receive the glass being offered to him.

"He tells people what to do." Itachi responded calmly, that soft half smile still stuck on his face. Itachi too had followed suit and finished his first glass, holding out his glass for Shisui to refill.

Sasuke cast a dull glance at his brother, his eyebrows raised slightly, before looking back at Shisui.

"I do."

Itachi put his head down, his hair spilling over his shoulders. He was smiling, laughing silently.

Shisui watched their exchange, familiar wrinkles at the corner of his eyes again. Brothers. And he was so happy to see it happen again. Itachi was always able to quietly insert something, but it usually was quite funny. It was always brief and hard to catch. Shisui laughed aloud again. Especially at Sasuke’s response. He was even more at ease. He hadn’t seen or felt Itachi laugh like that in months. “Of course, how could I forget?” Shisui refilled Itachi’s glass and then his own. “And school too? You’re in....11th grade now? Do you still do debate?”

"Hm."

Sasuke turned his head away a little, pensively. "No, it got boring. I was tired of doing everyone's heavy lifting."

Sasuke swirled the wine in his cup a little, now leaning back, propped up by one hand in the floor. "Besides I'm busy with the store. It didn't feel like much of a loss."

"It's been a while since you've had company, though, Sasuke. Do you have any friends at work?" Itachi spoke through his glass as he brought it to his lips.

Sasuke bristled some, his eyelids a bit heavier. "Ok." He laughed little spitefully. "Sorry. Not interested," he assured his brother. "And anyway what's your excuse, Itachi? When have you ever known anyone well enough to invite over in the first place?"

He condescended in a mild tone which didn't entirely match his aggression. He paused then looked down at his phone before frowning.

Speak of the devil.

He showed Itachi his ringing phone.

"Sorry, I have to take this," he said, drilling in his point, before scattering away from the table.

Shisui watched, trying to hide how his eyes widened. He inhaled. “...ah.” It was mostly Itachi’s aggression that surprised him. But he lifted his glass and bode his time taking another sip.

Last time he’d talked to Sasuke all he could get him to talk about was debate. He felt bad for not knowing it may be taboo now. Shisui really didn’t mind at all if he’d moved on to other things. He watched as Sasuke scrambled upright and into the other room. Normally he would have exchanged a look of surprise with Itachi but he instead focused on his glass as he held it in his hand. He thought it had been going well. But with his cousins anything can go south in half a second. He didn’t blame them. But what a loss. A good response from either of them meant a lot to him.

Itachi sat still, hands again resting in his lap, sitting in his knees, looking forward with dull eyes. It was unclear how he was feeling about this. Unlike Sasuke, he was better at keeping a poker face, even if that in itself was its own frustration. After a moment he made a quick glance over at Shisui, and when they made eye contact, he looked away quickly, turning his head the slightest bit. There was the smallest air of defeated shame. But as he stretched himself out to receive Sasuke's half full glass of wine and pour it in his own, the aura was heavy with resignation.

He probably wasn't going to talk about this. 

Instead, after silence and a few more sips of wine, Itachi found the remote and set the television to his gaming console.

Shisui took the last remaining bite of his lunch, then settled back, pulling his legs in front of him, and set his socked feet on the floor. He held his glass in his hand and watched the logo appear on the screen. He knew Itachi wouldn’t mention it. It would never read on his face but Shisui could sense in the change in atmosphere that there was some shame. Shisui had already forgiven him, though. There was a lot of strain here.

He blinked.

Then he changed his mind and began to stand up. He poured a little more into his and Itachi’s glass, then stacked the bowls. Sasuke’s was only half eaten. He straightened and padded back to the kitchen. He left Sasuke’s glass in the slight hope he would return, but he really doubted it.

Itachi could sense there was some frustration. Shisui was probably more disappointed in him than Sasuke in all honesty, though Itachi truly hadn't meant it as aggressively as it was received. But the aggression was there, he would admit to himself. And Sasuke was sensitive. Despite the attitude thrown at him most of today he still cared about his brother and was disappointed over how things turned out. He was tired. And at this point a little tipsy as well, which is probably why he overstepped Sasuke’s strictly imposed boundaries the way he had.

He gripped the controller loosely and played the difficult level. Shisui could hear the noises from the other room.

He died.

Itachi’s hand wandered to his hair in the short time it took to revive his character.

All Shisui needed was to take a breath. He rinsed out the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. Then he drank a glass of water. He returned to Itachi a couple minutes later. Itachi had just been able to revive his character.

“Itachi.” Shisui folded his legs again. He took a sip of the wine. The warmth helped him a bit. He knew Itachi wasn’t feeling well about it. The air had a certain weight. After a pause he continued: “Let’s try the dango.” He began to open the container.

Itachi paused the game and set down the controller gently on the table before sitting more upright as he had before. His head hung a little. He was by no means drunk, but tipsy enough to feel a lightness in his chest and to become a little flushed. He just felt tired.

This felt pretty familiar. It wasn't as often these days Shisui would see Itachi as candid as he used to be able to be. Itachi inspected the dango for a bit before picking one up out of the package. He held it for a while. He wasn't that hungry. It was hard to explain what he was feeling, maybe he wasn't certain. Still holding the untasted snack he put his hands in his lap once more.

"There’s probably a reason neither of us have anyone over," he said after a while. There was no self pity in his voice, just a frank openness.

"He is right." Itachi added, paused, then touched the hair that had spilled over his shoulder. "I don't have the right to act so concerned."

He spoke dully, less as if he were sad and more as if he were tired. There was a stiff humility about him.

One of Shisui’s lips tilted upward. He hadn’t expected Itachi to answer him. He held the dango to his face and sampled it. A tiny bite. Itachi usually took a bit longer to show his candid nature, but it wasn’t often associated with such shame. The tension was high ever since he came to the door. “Both of you are too hard on yourselves. You’re both very busy people. And very successful.” Shisui was gentle. He really did not see a need for comparison between the brothers. He knew it was very natural for them to think that way, though. His outsider opinion couldn’t compete with that.

The drink had only minimally affected him so far, just a floating in his head, but a lot of times it wasn’t very easy to tell when Shisui was affected, as it just seemed to enhance his good humor, for the most part.

Itachi sat there stiffly for a moment, saying nothing in response. He squinted a little bit, his brow furrowed and looking forward. His cheeks were a little flushed at the alcohol, but he wasn't certain if that was noticeable to others. It was during that pause that they heard the front door shut softly, indicating Sasuke had stepped out. He avoided passing through the den, signifying that he didn't wish for the attention from either of them. Though he shut the door with an ordinary manner the noise it made when it closed resonated in the quiet household. Itachi did not flinch, nor did he react. Shisui heard it too. He pressed his lips together. No matter how he wished to follow Sasuke, he knew it wouldn’t go over well. He sighed softly.

Another momentary silence ensued before Itachi started to quietly unfold himself from his stiff position. His hair draped over his face and shoulders as he crept out from his ritualistic posture and put his head on Shisui's knee, facing upwards at the ceiling. He stretched out one of his legs, the other bent upwards, his hands resting on his stomach as he faced the ceiling fan blankly.

Shisui watched the paused screen for a moment while Itachi laid his head on him. Shisui absentmindedly ran his fingers through Itachi’s hair. He hoped he wasn’t feeling sick to his stomach. He wished he could tell him to not be so hard on himself for what had transpired, but he knew he couldn’t keep Itachi from feeling that way. There was another pause. The fan lightly hummed.

“...I look forward to attending the conference with you on Tuesday, Itachi.” His voice was light and gentle.

Itachi rolled his head to the side so he was facing the television.

"Hm."

He agreed wordlessly. The television dimmed a little as the television continued to play the idle animation of the paused screen. Shisui had pulled his ponytail a bit looser and moved his hair away from his face. He was messing with it lightly, it was long enough that it didn't bother him, his hair was fine and soft and easily combed through. It carried a strong nostalgia, but unlike before, it was welcomed. Itachi did not entirely understand Shisui's faith in him, but because it was there he would continue. He'd show up to the conference. He sat up for a moment and reached for the last bit of wine, which he split between him and his cousin. He took a sip and made an almost inaudible hiss at the taste before crawling toward the other controller to retrieve for Shisui.

"How could you only bring one bottle, Shisui? Don't you have another?"

He offered him player two.

Shisui laughed lightly. “It’s Sunday, Itachi. I wasn’t sure if I could handle more today. We can have some more on Tuesday, though.” It was true though. He usually brought two. But he had a lot to do tomorrow to prepare for the conference. He really was excited for that. He was going to present at some point. And he was going to find the woman from New York and introduce her to Itachi.

He softly kept combing his fingers through Itachi’s hair. His motion was very slow and deliberate. It felt really nice. Itachi’s hair was like silk and had a gloss to it even though it was styled so lazily. It was nostalgic for Shisui too. Years ago a much younger Itachi would lean on him. This always helped him go to sleep. Both of them.

He accepted the controller, pulling his hands away from Itachi’s hair. He settled it in his hands and leaned backward. It was always the same game, but he liked it that way.

"Hm."

Itachi repeated, smiling lightly this time, facing no one in particular.

"Excuses don't become you."

He positioned himself so that his back was pressed against the couch, legs folded up slightly, holding his controller in both hands. He threw his head back a bit, looking at the fan once more.

"It makes you seem weak."

Itachi teased in that serious voice of his before proceeding to select start and begin a new game.

Shisui chuckled lightly. He really liked the smile. “Well maybe I am weak, Itachi. I’ll let other people be strong instead.”

He folded his legs again and watched the tv. He never expected to win it. But the music that’s always played for years started again.

Hours of this passed, gentle teasing and the monotonous loop of idle music. Itachi had at some point removed his sweater as he had begun to feel heated and was concentrated on the game, occasionally interrupted by distracting chatter from Shisui. 

As evening crept nearer, the front door clicked once more. After placing his keys on the table, Sasuke paused, listening to the drone of music and occasional murmuring of the two he had left long ago. He was honestly surprised Shisui was still here. By this time, the elongated evening shadows had begun to blend in with the increasingly dark atmosphere, the streetlights beginning to flicker on. Light laughter and a sound of discontent sounded from the den. Someone had lost. No way it was Itachi. Sasuke wandered in, curious.

Itachi remained on the floor, slouched, his head raised in attention at the screen, squinting. Shisui reclined on the couch, laughing the airy way he always did. Itachi remained still in his white t shirt, hair uncombed, facing the screen with a serious look on his face. The look said it all.

Sasuke leaned against den entry, watching. Though it was Shisui who had noticed first, Itachi followed his cousin's attention, greeting him with a surprised and serious "Sasuke!".

Shisui began laughing again.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. The wine had been finished, and uneaten dango remained on the coffee table.

"Hey, Sasuke you're back!" Shisui finally broke through his laughter.

"I just beat your brother at this game, what was it called?" He waved, indicating it didn't matter.

"Beginner’s luck I guess."

Itachi wore a small frown in the background.

"We were eating his dango but I guess your brother didn't want any --." He interrupted himself in realization. "Ah, Sasuke, I always forget you don't like sweets, forgive me."

He raised a hand, smiling at his youngest cousin.

"It's fine." Sasuke answered abruptly and walked over to where the two sat lazily over the furniture. He lowered himself back down to the table they had eaten lunch at earlier, tucking his feet under him the same way Itachi always did.

"I just want to watch."

Itachi drew his eyebrows together, a little bruised, but mostly with a relieved sense of humor. His hair had become staticky after laying around in the floor and sofa all afternoon. Shisui laughed encouragingly in the background.

Looking at the score displayed on the screen in front of them, Sasuke cocked his head slightly.

"I can beat that."


	8. Why is it Always You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke and Naruto clash with greater impact.

Naruto couldn’t get comfortable in his chair. He liked Tenzo alright as a person but this lesson was so dry. The words droned on and on, melting together, and only the first twenty minutes or so were understandable to him. 

So for awhile Naruto leaned as far forward as he could, collapsing over his desk, which couldn’t seem to contain him. He found himself accidentally kicking Sasuke’s chair once but tried not to do so excessively. Then he groaned silently and stretched back as far as he could go, almost able to see the person at the desk behind him. Chouji was used enough to this ritual by now that he would appear upside down in Naruto’s vision and give him a lazy wave. Shikamaru lingered to the left, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. Naruto’s leaning was usually accompanied by a kick to Sasuke’s chair, although he didn’t mean to do it. These chairs were so crammed in this room it was hard to reach all of them. The second hand on the clock seemed sluggish.

Sasuke would not admit to himself how close he was to falling asleep. He had ended up staying up fairly late last night with Shisui and Itachi, and he had to open at work today, meaning he had woken up at some God-forsaken hour to serve hordes of people, some of whom were on the way to school. He folded his hands by his chin, obscuring his mouth, his eyes half open and weighing themselves down. By the last period of the school day, any caffeination he’d had today had lost any positive effects, leaving him with just the negatives. He could feel his heart beating quickly and lightly through his chest, feeling like his blood had grown thinner, but his head heavier. Regardless, he was determined to understand Tenzo's lesson this time. Additionally, and probably more, he was determined to overcome the blond obstacle seated directly behind him. He could not name one person in this school who’d gotten under his skin the same way his new peer did, and this weighed heavily on his thoughts as Naruto kicked Sasuke's chair for the third time in five minutes. Sasuke frowned as he was startled awake, opening his eyes a bit further.

He turned around quickly and gave Naruto a vicious glare. Naruto had his arms behind his head and a pencil balancing on his upper lip.

"Stop kicking my damn chair!" He hissed.

Naruto hadn’t expected Sasuke to react. He’d actually thought he was moderately successful containing his kicks. Apparently not. He blinked several times in surprise and the pencil fell from his face and clattered to the floor. “Oh.”

Sasuke’s expression was terrifying, but Naruto could see the drowsiness in his face. Had he been sleeping? Huh. He wouldn’t have expected that.

He consciously put both his feet on the floor, but then he bent over so he could fish for his pencil. The eyes of people seated around them noticeably began to follow him as he fumbled around.

Sasuke turned back around quickly, this time not caring so much about the stares focused in his direction. It was Naruto who was being the nuisance. He fell into his previous position, facing the board as intently as he could, agitated from the exchange as well as the exhaustion. It took Naruto an obnoxiously long time to.retrieve his pencil, and everyone could read the annoyance on Sasuke’s face as he did his best to ignore it. Then he felt it roll past his foot. He fought the impulse to crush it. Instead, he leaned over and picked it up, completing the job apparently Naruto was unable to do. He placed it back down on Naruto’s desk with an angry and final click, before returning forward, feeling again the weight of exhaustion on his shoulder as he tried to concentrate.

Naruto blinked again. When the pencil rolled toward Sasuke, he felt like it would be the end of it. He wouldn’t give it back. But he could see how it took all of Sasuke’s effort to contain himself and gently set it on his desk. The air seemed to grow cold around him. 

“Uh... thanks.” Naruto couldn’t help but stare at his face until he turned back around. Then he tried to keep his feet away. Sasuke might just strangle him if he kicked his chair again.

But this lecture was so dry. Within five minutes Naruto was leaning back so far, his head was almost touching Chouji’s desk. The people around him were so bored, apparently his activity was interesting to them.

Sasuke honestly had no idea what Tenzo was droning on about. He was so pleasant up there, explaining the problem he was working as if it were easy. One would not be able to tell from Sasuke's expression how little he actually understood. Gradually, Sasuke found himself caring less and less, leaving his notes blank. His impatient glances at the clock slowed and he felt his body become still, his vision blurring. Without Naruto kicking his seat, Sasuke had little else left to capture his attention and keep him awake. He leaned over in his desk, very still, eyes shut, propping up his face with his hands. The lecture was hopelessly lulling him to sleep.

Naruto wasn’t paying attention to Tenzo at all anymore. Now he was intrigued by how Sasuke’s head seemed to be bobbing up and down as he tried to fight sleep.

He leaned to one side in his chair. “Hey.” He didn’t know Shikamaru’s name. He was leaning back in his chair, narrowed eyes, bored. But that seemed to be normal for him. “How many people do you think are asleep?”

He didn’t know why he was focusing on Sasuke. There were probably others. He saw Sakura sitting st the front of the class, attentive and taking notes. Well not her. Naruto rolled his eyes.

As he leaned though, he lost his balance. Another firm kick to Sasuke’s chair. Shit.

Sasuke inhaled quickly, startled enough from the kick on the back of his chair that he began coughing dryly. He made a bit of an exclamation of surprise at being so violently ripped from dozing off. He had been so tired he hadn't even remembered falling asleep much less, for how long. He placed his hands stiffly on the desk in front of him, recovering with one small, final cough.

....Naruto.

His eyes were fully open now, anyway. He drilled holes into the wood of his desk with his gaze. Again, the class decidedly stopped what they were doing to look at the small scene Naruto had put in motion. Sasuke got a quick look at Sakura's surprised and almost concerned face as she craned her neck from the front of the class. Shikamaru rolled his eyes and let out a measured scoff. That Naruto was kind of dumb. But now that he had embarrassed Sasuke twice, that idiot was beginning to attain his graces.

Sasuke could not hide it this time. His face quickly flushed a bold red. Naruto could see it in his ears even from behind him. Watching him sweat was gratifying as hell. It became apparent to Naruto that he was not the only one who felt this way as many of his classmates verbalized surprise and humor at Sasuke’s expense.

Naruto could feel icy spikes running up and down his back. It was an accident, but it isn’t like it mattered now. He suspected Sasuke might just kill him.

He bit his lip and widened his eyes, then righted himself in his chair. He crossed his arms. It was strange to him that they were mostly looking at Sasuke and not at him, the one who nearly just fell out of his chair.

Tenzo paused for a long moment, staring intently at Sasuke, which intensified his blush. Naruto sensed Shikamaru and Chouji smirk and glance at each other. But then Tenzo took his eyes away. “Hey Naruto are we doing math or are we doing gymnastics?” He’d been noticing the level of sleepiness in his class, though. Now they were all awake. “Now who can help me with this problem?” His eyes returned to Sasuke for a moment but then swept over the class.

Sasuke was suddenly feeling quite heated and it showed, a noticeable contrast from his usually cool demeanor. He needed to get it together. He continued staring at his desk and he swallowed before narrowing his eyes. Was Naruto trying to pick a fight? Sure, he was clumsy, but this was pointed. Sasuke gripped his hand around his pencil until his knuckles began turning white.

Sasuke brought his pencil to his notebook, making the motions of copying the problem from the board. His mind was far away from this classroom, though. There was no way he’d absorbed anything today. Even Tenzo picked up on the tension, but his expression suggested it should be dealt with later. There had been enough disruption for one afternoon.

There was a tap on Naruto's shoulder from behind. Chouji slid a scrap of paper towards Naruto. Uncrumpling it, Naruto read the thin, stiff handwriting.

_Sasuke lol. I thought he was going to cry._

Chouji's expression indicated it wasn’t from him but the person seated beside him. Shikamaru kept his head low, uninterested in the last 15 minutes of class.

Naruto had to admit. It was fun messing with Sasuke, and the fear of death in a way made it more exciting. What a jerk. He thought of their tennis match. He wished he’d just spiked the ball and decisively won. That guy needed someone to teach him a lesson. And Sakura. Naruto couldn’t let it go. He’d been trying not to kick his chair, but there were many reasons why, and the primary one wasn’t “for Sasuke’s sake”.

He held the page in his hand. It’s true. Tenzo’s stare on Sasuke was almost worse than it was the other day, even if Naruto had been trying to keep the spotlight off Sasuke this time. Naruto would even say: “I didn’t even do anything today. I’ve been leaving him alone. It wasn’t my fault he was sleeping.”

Naruto smirked at Shikamaru’s message. Then he wrote an answer he wasn’t sure was even true: _Yeah I bet it doesn’t take much to make him cry._

Then he subtly put his hand behind him and passed it to Chouji.

Chouji passed the scrap of paper without reading it. He seemed only passively involved but obliging. A short ways behind him, Naruto could hear a short but audible "heh" from Shikamaru, who had lifted his head some to read Naruto’s quick and messy handwriting. Naruto might be alright. He tucked the torn sheet underneath his notebook and waited for the bell to ring.

Once it did, Sasuke immediately began packing his things away. He had somewhat calmed himself since the embarrassment, but the wound was still raw and the indignation fresh. He forced himself to slow down, fighting the impulse to cause another scene right then and there. 

Tenzo sighed as he was interrupted in the middle of a problem. “Extra credit if you turn this in tomorrow finished.”

As the others filed out he gestured to Sasuke. “Do you have a minute to spare? Also Naruto.” It seemed like an afterthought. “Don’t leave yet.”

Sasuke stopped dead in his tracks as he began to file out through the rows of desks. His hand rested lightly on the one closest to him for a moment before bringing it up wards to clench his backpack strap.

Naruto had been glancing back at Shikamaru as he packed up. Shikamaru was already completely ready, waiting as Chouji dumped his stuff in his backpack. He had been avoiding eye contact with Sasuke. There was a still a chance he would explode at him.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Naruto had somewhat been wondering when Tenzo’s patience would wear out. Others had within a day and others seemed to have a longer fuse, like Iruka.

Sasuke was silent. As Naruto drew nearer to him, he turned his face to make a pointed glare at his classmate. It was not subtle and absolutely unavoidable. He looked at Naruto as if he were scum, a waste of time and space.

Naruto stopped as he saw the death glare from Sasuke. He wiped what Sasuke would describe as the “stupid look” off his face and replaced it with a glare back. He crossed his arms.

Tenzo knew there would be tension between them. He held up his hand. “Naruto wait a minute I’ll get to you next.” Naruto blinked in surprise. He thought they’d be scolded together. He took a few steps back and sat down.

Tenzo turned to Sasuke. “Have things been alright for you lately? Have you been working too hard?” The last few quizzes had been difficult for him. And today he was sleeping. As his teacher, he was concerned. Sasuke usually was successful at math.

Sasuke frowned in indignation, taking a short breath before answering. "I'm fine," he protested firmly, staring through his teacher before looking up to make eye contact. "I just don't like being seated next to distractions." His eyes cut again toward where Naruto was seated boredly. Sasuke generally respected Tenzo, but his tone right now suggested otherwise.

Tenzo bit the corner of his lip. He hadn’t expected Sasuke to bite but he’d wanted to try. “I’m not sure how he caused you to fall asleep. Or affected your last quiz.” He said it in a completely serious tone. “Even people as smart as you still need to balance how much work they take on. You’re still young. I expect a lot from you.”

Tenzo sighed then talked so both of them could hear. Naruto jumped in his chair. “I think the two of you need to stay here and work out that problem.” He gestured to the board. Sasuke could hear Naruto groan.

Sasuke, who had lowered his head in the wake of his bruised pride looked up again, scowling. "You can't keep me here,” he protested, his eyes flashing as his looked over toward Naruto, then back at Tenzo. He could not believe it.

“You’re right. I can’t.” Tenzo crossed his arms. “You’re free to go.” He knew Sasuke would be cold but he was an extra level of hostile today.

Naruto already was digging through his bag again to find his pencil. He didn’t question it at all.

"But it would benefit your participation grade, Sasuke," Tenzo added as Sasuke turned away, shirking both his teacher and his new classmate. "After your past two quizzes I'm not sure you can afford to take any more hits to your grade. It doesn't afford you much grace. So I'm willing to give you some flexibility. Either you can stay here now and work it out, or you can leave and suffer the cut to your grade. I'm not responsible for your choice either way, Sasuke."

Sasuke stared at the light filtering in through the blinds, spreading elongated rectangular shafts of light across the carpet. His scowl had dissolved some, but his brow remained knitted. Tenzo was reigning in his authority over his student. He wasn’t bluffing though, which proved he knew how to get to Sasuke. He couldn't afford to get so behind so early. He knew the rest of the year would just spiral southward if he allowed that to happen, and since it was his junior year, his grades were important to maintain for any hope of making it out of his small house.

"Regardless. I'm stepping out for a bit. You can decide which option you’d prefer," Tenzo said as if to subtly underline his graciousness.

Naruto was a bit shocked at the force with which Tenzo addressed Sasuke. He sat there a bit amazed, mouth open. Both of them were so aggressive. He watched Tenzo leave, then turned back to Sasuke. Him sitting next to him felt exactly like opening the freezer door. 

Sasuke blinked, still frowning, then looked to the side briefly. Tenzo shut the door lightly, his shoes clicking on the outside tile.

"Well, Sasuke?" Naruto’s voice was grating.

Sasuke drew his eyebrows together and inhaled with an air of defeat and resignation. He collected himself and made his way back to the desk, seating himself beside Naruto.

"Why is it always you."

Naruto rolled his eyes. “I want to ask the same question.” He twirled his pencil in his hand. Sasuke was so goddamn mean. Even to the teacher. But what Tenzo just said was truly terrifying. He almost felt for Sasuke. 

There was a pause. Sasuke wasn’t making eye contact.

“You uh. Probably have work or something?” He would say “let’s make it quick”, but he really had no idea how to do this problem. “Do we need to get out the textbook?”

Sasuke stared at the math equation written across his gridded notepad. His attitude had cooled from before, but he looked serious. Sasuke shook his head. It was clear he had no idea how to tackle this problem either. He dipped down to unpack his textbook from his backpack silently. The air remained tense, but Sasuke made it clear that he was putting his anger away for now in order to complete this as quickly as possible. It was an assignment, after all. Nevertheless it was still quite clear that he would rather be anywhere else but here. The ice was very thin. As long as Naruto didn't start with any of his antics, his patience was extended.

Sasuke pointed again at the equation with the tip of his pencil, tapping the paper once or twice in thought. "Here, you start here and work your way down," he instructed, partially to himself.

Naruto bit his lip. “Uh. Okay.” He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the muttered instructions. But he looked at Sasuke’s slanted handwriting. He could maybe do about 10% of the problem. He wrote a line beneath what he was given. His handwriting was a lot messier. When he finished, he glanced at Sasuke, who had just reached the page. Naruto began the next line but he was writing really slowly. That’s about all it took until he got stuck. He furrowed his brow.

Naruto could feel Sasuke’s intensity as he stared at the book, otherwise he would press him. After a pause, he spoke in a soft voice. “What does it say?”

Sasuke furrowed his brow, looking at the book in frustration. "What do you mean, "what does it say," can't you read?" He expressed it under his breath begrudgingly. His tone was less mocking than it was perturbed.

Sasuke's pencil suddenly lowered in frigid realization. He paused shortly before he looked at Naruto wearing an expression of small horror. He could read. Right.

Right?

"Um-" He wasn't sure how to ask. He couldn't put anything past Naruto, at least that he was beginning to understand.

Sasuke’s look was really strange as he studied him, a mix of shock that almost hinted at disgust. Naruto twisted his face. “What?” He didn’t get it but he frowned anyway. Most likely Sasuke was being a jerk. Especially since he had gone from being so serious and focused to such a dramatic expression.

“I can’t see it! What do we do next?” He started repeatedly tapping his foot.

"Oh."

Sasuke looked at Naruto a little longer, brows still knitted, but relieved. Still, the concern remained almost as strong as ever: Sasuke realized he was genuinely concerned for a moment that Naruto had never properly learned how to read. That alone was enough for alarm. Troubled, he quickly looked back down at his book, hiding an expression of unease. He stiffly pushed the book between them so Naruto could have a better look, which required Sasuke to also push his desk closer so there was no gap left for the book to fall through. He could feel Naruto's agitation tangibly. Though he wasn't saying much, when he did, it was loud. Even when he wasn't saying anything at all, somehow, it was still loud. Naruto bounced his leg violently, and Sasuke closed his eyes for a moment, frowning as if he had a headache. He was still damn tired, but like before, how could he stay asleep with Naruto's chaotic energy barraging him. It was unclear how willing Naruto was to cooperate, or if he just wanted to cop some easy answers from someone forced to find the patience with him. Still, the energy that radiated off him was almost motivating for Sasuke. At least, it was keeping him awake.

"Ok." Sasuke began again, opening his eyes. "This number should be placed under here, by y, right? I think. We should be looking at this one backwards than normal. "

Sasuke continued frowning, but he delivered himself differently than he had both times Naruto had been paired with him. His voice was somewhat nasal and irate, but there was a deliberate earnestness to it. Sasuke's strict objective right now was to figure this out. It was becoming evident, as he instructed Naruto, he was not certain of the correct method either, though his determination and procedure may suggest otherwise.

Naruto let Sasuke go through all the levels of realization he was having. He still had no idea what it was. Whatever. Sasuke is inexplicable. He knew that much. Miles and miles of travel all wound up in his head.

But maybe Sasuke knew what to do. Naruto glanced at him again. His face was half hidden by his hair. Sasuke seemed to channel his aggressiveness into focus, and maybe the frigid front became less cold.

Naruto looked down again. It seemed like the harder he thought, the more energy built up in him, and the more violently he would tap his leg. It wouldn’t build up in one spot behind his eyes like that. It would diffuse. As he listened to Sasuke he bit the end of his pencil. As Sasuke pointed to the page, Naruto wrote it down. “Like that?” He glanced over at him again to see where else his expression had gone. It was strange seeing this contrast. He was telling him what to do, sure, but this time he didn’t mind. Maybe they’d get somewhere.

“Then you do this, right?” He wrote the next part. An errant thing he remembered Tenzo say.

Sasuke lifted his chin, looking over the scrawl Naruto left over his grid paper. "..Yeah."

Naruto surprised him again. Sasuke had forgotten that formula, but Naruto regurgitated it by memory like it was nothing. A moment ago Sasuke was genuinely questioning his ability to even read. His surprise was quickly crept up on by a suppressed sentiment of inadequacy. He side eyed Naruto quickly before dismissing it. His expression was so dumb looking. Simultaneously troubled and completely oblivious. God.

Sasuke refocused on the problem and continued plugging numbers from the textbook into the equation. It was becoming apparent that his confidence laid primarily in his ambition, but not his ability. There were several pauses between explanations, faltering, but never failing to pick himself back up and continue.

Naruto had been lucky. He wouldn’t have known how to apply the thought he remembered in most cases. Sometimes a fact just jumps to the forefront of his mind, almost as if he’s quoting the teacher rather than using the knowledge. And once again he saw Sasuke cycle through surprise, an almost impressed pondering, and then a resurgence of his anger. Okay. Naruto just kept trying to focus but it ended up just skewing his face.

Familiar clicking sounded from the hallway. Tenzo re-entered his nearly empty classroom. He’d stepped out longer than he had planned, and apologized for his absence, leaving his students without a teacher to answer any questions. Truth be told he was surprised Sasuke had stayed. He was even more surprised the two hadn't ripped any limbs off.

Sasuke looked at the result the two had achieved skeptically as Tenzo picked it up.

"Hm..." Their teacher mulled over their process. "Not even close." He sighed, a somewhat hopeless expression on his face. "Your work was generally on track though....Listen, Naruto. Sasuke."

He inhaled, anticipating the impending backlash. "I'd really like you both to come to morning tutoring."

Naruto groaned audibly and put his head on the desk, then sighed. “I thought Sasuke had it.”

"Sasuke had it?!" Sasuke whipped around, facing the pouting blonde. There it was again, his pride was hurt and his frustration flared. Naruto had to admit, he had worked hard just to be recommended for tutoring. It wasn't something Sasuke was used to hearing. The thought of it was enough to silence him. Or that would be the case, if Naruto wasn't in the room.

"And where were you, asking me to read for you like this was all on me?"

Back to more bickering.

Naruto shut Sasuke’s book and slid his desk away again, scowling. “We wouldn’t have gotten anywhere if I hadn’t come up with that!”

Stupid Sasuke. Carrying on like he knew the answer when he was just bullshitting. Naruto had expected he probably would end up having to go to tutoring sooner or later. Math wasn’t his strong suit.

Tenzo sighed. “Ok. You two can go now.”

Sasuke turned his face away from Naruto and lifted himself up from his seat stiffly, with force. He was no longer interested in arguing. There was sudden silence as he packed away his belongings with a scowl and headed out the door, Naruto still protesting behind him. Other than that, the empty hallways emitted an eerie radio silence. Sasuke’s hands were gripping his backpack straps once again.

Wow Sasuke was fast. Naruto suddenly stopped his protesting and shoved his pencil in his bag, then strode after Sasuke. For some reason he wasn’t keen on letting Sasuke go so quickly. The feeling he got from him was anger but also hurt, in a strange way. He knew he wasn’t the one who should discuss it with him, but it just seemed wrong. Naruto was painfully used to tutoring, but maybe Sasuke was new to it.

But he didn’t want to repeat the spectacle he made when he has barged out with him the other day. So after a point, he let Sasuke go.

It was Sakura at her locker in the hallway, though, that hindered him. “Oh Sasuke did you stay after school today? I saw Neji preparing for debate. Is there some sort of event?”

Sasuke lifted his head, taken off guard. He had not noticed Sakura still at her locker, the hallway was otherwise completely empty. A better question may have been what she was doing here. Usually she'd be in a classroom working through a club meeting by now. It was almost as if she waited. Funny how that happened lately--running into her like that.

"Neji? No, I--" Sasuke frowned, being yanked out of his sulking thoughts. He made a face before inhaling softly, resetting his thought process. "It was Naruto. I was kept late because of Naruto, “ he said cooly, clearly irate.

It was true. Sakura had waited. She heard Tenzo keep Sasuke after. She couldn’t help herself. Especially if something was troubling him. Maybe if she could learn about it she could help him. Her club could wait ten minutes. They wouldn’t mind. She made extra effort to organize her locker and look busy. She missed when Sasuke would stay after school more. He used to take his time and care to interact with more people.

Today Sasuke was clearly upset.

“Naruto got you into trouble again?” She frowned. “You should ask to move your seat.”

She looked up now, though. Naruto had caught up. He grasped his bag clumsily. “Oh hi Sakura.” He was less open to her than he had been before. Even subconsciously he remembered she wouldn’t take his side. And now she appeared mad at him before he’d even said anything.

Sasuke tensed suddenly at the voice behind him. He wore an expression of tenuous patience and his gaze shifted from facing Sakura to looking directly through her. He did not turn to acknowledge his peer and expressed no outward interest in interaction at all. He was once again, against his intent, caught here between the two.

Sakura's face visibly dropped, and she put down the hand that had just begun to reach out towards Sasuke.

It was clear Naruto was being talked about.

Sasuke cut his eyes to look back at Naruto briefly, then turned to face Sakura once more. His head lowered. "Tch."

Naruto could tell he wasn’t welcome from either of them. He sort of stopped. He’d wanted to ask Sakura if she knew about the problem. But the same hostility from the other day immediately came to light.

So he stopped. He didn’t want to bike home yet but didn’t know where to go. “Hey, uh, Sakura. Did you understand the math?” He glanced between them.

Sakura paused and opened her mouth partially, lifting her chin. Her opinion on the new student had declined rapidly. Naruto caused trouble. Trouble for Sasuke and her too--she was drawing all the attention she didn't want. She gave Naruto a strict look over Sasuke's shoulder.

"Naruto, of course you didn't understand the math, you were too busy making a scene." She scolded him with a considerably sharper tone than the light one she had taken with him last week. She was frustrated. Truth be told, Naruto asked the question she was hoping Sasuke would ask--the entire point of her little charade.

Sasuke frowned, shutting his eyes and leaning his head to the side. He pulled himself away from Sakura, who had begun talking over him. He did not appreciate the additional lecturing, even if it was directed at Naruto.

The hostility had taken so little time. Sakura’s voice dripped with disdain, though she had been so sweet and patient last week. Naruto bit his lip. He wasn’t sure what he could do. But he also saw how Sasuke seemed to react negatively to what she said.

“I didn’t make anyone fall asleep, though. ‘T’s cause the math is hard. Maybe they needed to wake up.” He cut his eyes at Sasuke.

Sasuke stood rigidly between them. He made hardly any reaction to Naruto's insult or complaining, leaning away from Sakura, his eyes still shut. Today could not have gone much worse. Nonetheless, it went the way it had and truth be told, Sasuke was ready to begrudgingly move forward. Sakura suddenly interjecting her way into his business really put Sasuke at a sense of unease as well. She began some petty defense for his sake before Sasuke interrupted.

"You two are really irritating." 

He was looking through both of them, his eyes distantly staring at the floor. 

Sakura was really frustrated. Her perfect plan had been ruined. She’d waited around for Sasuke to come out of class. And she would have shown him how to do the math problem. And she would solve his problem. She was excited for it. But no. Naruto had to be here too. And Sasuke’s comment made her so upset. She gave Naruto a death glare.

Sasuke then took a step to his side, beginning a slight turn to face the blonde behind him.

"And you, Naruto."

The hallway was dead once again.

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" His expression was cold, but his delivery indicated that the question was genuine.

Naruto frowned. He’d had enough. He looked straight into Sasuke’s eyes. “So what if I am? You think I’d be scared of someone like you?”

Sasuke's eyebrows raised subtly as he looked down at Naruto from the bridge of his nose. The blonde had taken a step closer in his bravado and Sasuke leaned back a little to look at him.

Naruto was serious.

It puzzled him. Why Naruto targeted him the way he did was lost on Sasuke. Since day one he had refused to be dismissed. Even more, the idea that he had intent to challenge him was ridiculous. It was a bold and strange declaration to make.

Sasuke continued to frown, peering coldly down at Naruto, as if weighing what to make of him. He thought of the tennis match they had held the other day and remembered how bitter Naruto was over his defeat. He emitted the same indignation now as he had then. Was that it?

Sasuke laughed a quick note of smug condescension, his hard expression shifting to one of quiet amusement and pity.

"You're stupider than you look if you think I'd take that shit for bait."

As if Sasuke would demean himself.

"I'm not interested."

He said with an air of finality as he reached for his car keys.

Naruto was really angry. He clenched his fists at his sides as he tried to keep the color from rising to his face.

“....you’re a real jerk, You know that? You’re so mean to everyone. You look down your nose like you’re oh so above this. Not just me. Sakura’s only been nice to you. And you treat everyone like that cause, what? You couldn’t win in a real fight? It’d be different than tennis, huh.” The anger was unfurling more and more rapidly. He finally shut his mouth.

Sakura was a little in shock. Especially since her name was being used. They were both being so aggressive.

Sasuke stood still, feeling adrenaline rise from the tips of his fingers, but containing it tightly so it wouldn't circulate throughout the rest of his body. Despite Naruto's outburst, Sasuke’s eyes appeared flat, his expression somewhat glazed over, and a disgusting trace of a smirk still on his face from before. His gaze locked with Naruto's. The blonde could hardly contain his anger, it was absolute and overwhelmed the atmosphere. His eyes flashed at Sasuke with intent, the stupid expression from before wiped away. He had meant what he said.

"Hm."

From here, Sasuke seemed unreachable, continuing to suppress the adrenaline bubbling forth. In reality, he could feel the static in his chest. It was beginning to rise to his throat.

"You don't know shit about me Naruto."

He meant it too.

"You really are fucking dumb."

Naruto wouldn't.

Naruto froze, but the static that built up in his chest, then his throat, then his eyes, intensified. He was losing control. Everything melted away. The environment seemed to slip away from him. It stung. He forgot Sakura was there.

It was just Sasuke’s stupid smirk and his flat eyes. But then the words came. And it was like each syllable was a separate strike.

Naruto broke. He punched Sasuke right in the face. Sakura cried out. Naruto’s voice was strangely calm. “....you don’t. Know anything about me neither.”

Sasuke staggered backwards a few steps, clattering against the metal lockers. He clutched his face in his hands, his hair falling into his eyes. He suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting Naruto's in a flash.

It seemed that Naruto surprised even himself with his punch. He could only hear a high pitched ringing as he watched Sasuke stagger backwards. His eyes were open all the way. He saw the blood trickle down Sasuke’s lip. An imperfection on his pristine face.

Sasuke had been caught off guard. He did not anticipate that Naruto would actually escalate to that degree. He could smell the metallic scent of blood as it began to slowly trickle down his nose and eventually down his face. Naruto's punch was serious and though it stung, Sasuke was not feeling any pain. The adrenaline he had fought to suppress was now overwhelming him, as if a faucet had burst. He couldn't hear Sakura as she cried out, nor could he see any of the papers spill out of his backpack as he threw it on the tile.

He didn't say anything, only inhaled through his teeth before jerking Naruto by his shoulder and punching him forcefully in his stomach.

Naruto still hadn’t recovered when Sasuke hit him back, still standing there with his eyes open as wide as they could go. He buckled in half and was sent backwards, back first and then his shoulders and head ricocheted in the shockwave. Sasuke punched hard. Naruto’s backpack was sent spinning to one side, his things mixing with Sasuke’s as they spilled out.

Sakura felt like her heart had stopped. It was terrifying. And now she saw the blood on Sasuke’s face. It took her a minute to recover from the shock, but she ducked away to find a teacher.

Sasuke stood over Naruto, heaving some from sheer adrenaline. His dark eyes looked directly into Naruto’s. He shut his mouth, previously panting for breath, and relaxed his shoulders. Whatever emotion that had flashed in his eyes was now being flattened once again, however left with a distorted after image. There was an aggression, almost a desperation, that could no longer be entirely buried. Sasuke's hands were trembling as a drop of blood fell from his chin and onto his shirt.

"I know enough."

The ringing in his ears was so loud he hardly noticed the measured footfall of teacher's shoes on the tile, followed hurriedly by a shaken Sakura.

Naruto watched as Sasuke curled as gracefully as he could back into his shell. It was remarkable. His energy both expanded and diffused, and he transformed back into the same flat eyed Sasuke. Naruto’s eyes were opened wide still, but he did not break eye contact. He’d lost his balance and clattered back against the lockers. He rubbed the back of his head as he tried to catch his breath. Sasuke had knocked it completely out of him. “....don’t. Be so sure.” His words didn’t have the same weight when he was the one sent backwards. But that blood kept going. He watched it trickle down Sasuke’s face. Another drop onto his shirt. Naruto stood back up again, eye contact still unbroken.

Sakura was crying silently as she followed Kakashi. She hadn’t expected that to happen. Kakashi was a bit surprised at the news. Sasuke? In a fight? He looked around at the mess they made. But he noticed that the boys were taking their time now. A staring showdown. “Alright. That’s enough.”


	9. Networking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deidara and Itachi fulfill their invitations.

Deidara had no idea of the nature of the event. He just knew the time and location. That’s Sasori’s doing, he guessed. It wasn’t a surprise, though. It was always like that with him. Sasori had his customary dress shirt and slacks on again. Deidara couldn’t stand that. He wouldn’t dress like that if hell froze over, or even if he sold his soul to a random god named Jashin. But in solidarity he decided he was against color today too. So his long black tunic and his black leggings it was. For a class he’d had to make beads, and he actually liked them. Small white birds along a long gold chain. The professor had given him a hard time about refusing to glaze them, but he’d held firm. 

Sasori looked him up and down, his face revealing nothing. “Ok. Let’s go.” Deidara smirked at the clear restraint in commenting on his outfit. It didn’t show on Sasori’s face, but Deidara knew nonetheless.

Sasori had to climb over a pile of debris to sit, rather uncomfortably, in Deidara’s car. He found no necessity in filling the silence.

Deidara was amused at the spectacle of Sasori sitting in such chaos and disarray. “Shisui’s already having a show, hm?” He hoped there would be drinks there. “You know Konan too?”

Bland disdain snuck onto Sasori’s face. Deidara had hit a flat note in asking about Konan. "Yes. We are acquainted. She's good at what she does."

Sasori critically examined the inside of Deidara's shabby car but refrained from critique this time.

"Just. don't go floating my name around her if you two do happen to meet. We're not on the best terms right now." Sasori turned to look Deidara straight in the eye, emphasizing his instructions before carefully settling back in the seat. He turned down the volume of whatever radio station Deidara had the car set to and folded his arms out of habit.

Deidara didn’t care what Sasori thought of his car. He’d had it for years and it was dear to him now. He side-eyed him. “What did you do to her?”

Konan didn’t seem the type to have dramatic falling-outs with people. She was a lot like Shisui, just much more shy. And Sasori never had an issue with Shisui. Everyone sort of collectively looked up to him, which was somewhat annoying. But Deidara had nothing against the guy himself.

Deidara began to drive aimlessly. “Sasori where the fuck is it, hm? You never tell me anything.”

Sasori scowled at Deidara's heavy braking at the nearest intersection. "It's a few streets down from the strip, just head towards the Oceanside. There's a conference center near campus." Sasori’s voice was raised in frustration. He was impatient with Deidara's attention to detail. All this information was in the email pamphlet he'd forwarded.

"I'll direct you when we're closer." He lowered his voice back to its original volume and pressed the back of his head against the car seat, arms still folded.

Deidara frowned. “Fine.” He swerved around a corner. He’d almost missed it. Just go to campus first, apparently. 

"Anyway," Sasori digressed. "You know when you pass those beauty shops downtown. And sometimes you see those party wigs. You know the ones with the really short bangs." He slowly shifted his gaze to look back at Deidara. "Well she doesn't wear her hair like that anymore."

How he delivered indicated he probably had something to do with it.

A grin gradually stretched across Deidara’s face and he laughed aloud. “You didn’t. You’re so fucking evil Sasori.” But Sasori could tell he loved it. “You must’ve been pissed at her already though.” Sasori didn’t just go about insulting people. There had to have been more to it.

"It was coincidental," Sasori insisted, lifting his head to intensify his stare at Deidara. "It was a project I was working on at the end of last semester. You know my mannequins."

Sasori was actually defending himself. His explanation, however, remained measured and somewhat irate. "I selected the wig to be flattering. Konan. Well. She felt there was a bit of a resemblance and told me she found my art ‘unsettling’ and ‘grotesque’ and a ‘caricature’."

Sasori's eyes lifted upwards in boredom and irritation frowning heavily. "And you know what the department said about that."

Deidara was enjoying this story immensely and wasn’t bothering to conceal it. Usually Sasori got his way. And his defensive tone was rare and new. “You let her bully you into changing your project.” He couldn’t hold a straight face. “And you were just a freshman so—“ He wasn’t going to win the argument if the department was involved. “But Sasori. WAS it a caricature, hm?” He drummed his hands on the wheel.

"You know I don't do caricatures, Deidara."

The small redhead spat out his words some. At least, they seemed to drip with a more aggravated venom than usual, Sasori continued to frown, his arms perpetually crossed. "Regardless. It just took some time for the department to reconsider is all."

He looked straight ahead through the windshield, watching the street lamps pass by at repetitive, even intervals. "It was recently approved for exhibition until spring semester." Sasori could not hide the dainty smirk that spread across his lips, try as he might.

Deidara noticed Sasori’s face. The break in his seriousness was delicious. He smirked, then broke into a laugh again. The venom didn’t seem to affect him. “Good old Sasori, ready to piss off upperclassmen.” Konan too. She and Shisui were quite beloved to the department. “And of course, as usual, you didn’t tell me. Where’s your display? It would mean I’ve been really unobservant if I didn’t notice one of YOUR displays.” The light finally turned green and he turned left.

Sasori waved dismissively. "It's not up yet. But Konan is aware of its approval, so don't bring it up," he warned Deidara sternly.

Deidara grinned. “I can’t wait to see it, Sasori.” He may disagree with many of Sasori’s ideas about art, but he always wanted to see what he made. Especially if it made anyone upset. He smiled to himself for a while until Sasori directed him into the parking lot.

The night was disgusting. Sasori unfolded himself out of Deidara's small car and faced the asphyxiating humidity with a still, but clearly unpleasant expression, his eyebrows offering the hint of a scowl. He quickly checked his pockets for both his phone and business card case before looking Deidara over once more. For once he wasn't wearing ripped flannel and denim. He’d dressed cleanly in all black. The ensemble made a bit of a statement but, considering the event and the type of people who were attending, Sasori deemed it appropriate. He smoothed down his short sleeve button up and prepared to enter the event.

Deidara was more used to a dry heat. He didn’t like how you could almost tangibly see the mist in the air around here. He made a face. Then he looked at Sasori. His roommate always dressed in such a boring way. And that was one of his greatest fears. He didn’t know how Sasori could stand it. Maybe it was to purposely make others underestimate him. Deidara’s ensemble was much less loud than usual, but it was still noticeably different. He took off his shoes and tossed them back into the car, then he locked it.

x-x-x-x-x

Itachi sat in his car for a minute or two longer, feeling the air conditioner wash away as the leather interior soaked up the weighty outdoor heat. His wrist draped over the wheel as he performed a small stretch, as his long legs were too long to fit in the car. He removed his sunglasses and squinted downwards, as the evening sun was set at just the precise angle to blind. If Itachi was being honest with himself, he did not want to be here. A lot had gone on in the past two days and the last thing he cared to do right now was to network with pretentious strangers. But as Shisui had reminded him, unfortunately, that was a large part of the game. The only thing that kept him from breaking this promise was to support Shisui. He’d so badly wanted Itachi to show up, he knew it would be a major faux pas to just not arrive. No. It would hurt Shisui. And after how parts of Sunday went....

Itachi was here entirely out of obligation. He wasn't about to let that show, however, as he unfolded himself out of his car and walked into the center a few minutes tardy.

Shisui was excitedly awaiting Itachi to arrive. He wanted to show him off to the people who’d been so good to him. He knew very well that they’d like his work too. Itachi was young but Shisui knew he was someone they would want to meet.

Konan had smirked at him. “You know this is an event for you, right?” She thought all this about Itachi was so sweet but she’d had to remind him to set up an exhibit for it. It seems he would have entirely forgotten. Maybe few other people knew this, but she often filled this role. Reminded him to get tickets to New York. Reminded him when things were due. He would get so excited he forgot practical aspects. Or at least. He was never one for doing things on time. But regardless, he was looking around for Itachi. He’d had to come early and now finally people were entering.

Itachi arrived just short of ten minutes late. Fortunately, Shisui wasn’t speaking first and he was able to wade through a dwindling crowd as they filtered into the small auditorium. Itachi spotted him waiting near the door, and he made his way in his direction as he waved lightly.

"Shisui," he greeted softly in recognition amongst a small sea of strangers. It was a relief to find him. Itachi felt very estranged here and somehow, stepping into Shisui's aura allowed him a peaceful clarity.

Shisui didn’t have to wave for Itachi to realize he’d seen him. His face light up. He took a few steps closer. “Hi Itachi.” He smiled. “I’m so glad you could make it.” He could also see how Itachi’s face changed now that he wasn’t wandering alone. “Someone else is speaking now, then Konan, then me, but then I can meet you again, just at the exhibits. How’s your week been going?”

Itachi paused to return the smile. Shisui was bouncy, with his hand on his shoulder. After all this time he was still just a bit taller, his hand resting strongly on Itachi’s shoulder.

"It's been well." Itachi continued to smile lightly. He was not about to open up that quickly in this setting. He wasn't sure he wanted to at all. Though Shisui was his greatest confidant, some things just didn't need to be brought up. 

Shisui beamed. “I’m glad to hear it.” He knew Itachi wouldn’t open up here, but he always made a point to ask anyway.

Itachi lowered his face. "I'm looking forward to tonight. These people--they’re really important, then...."

“Ah, but don’t be nervous. They’re really nice. And they asked about you!” Shisui wasn’t sure if that would help or hurt Itachi’s apprehension, but it was the truth.

x-x-x-x-x

It was only a short walk. Deidara rolled his eyes. Sasori was such a diva. Who cares if he wasn’t wearing shoes? They were hurting him. He imagined going around all evening with that horrible pinching. No. He had to be at his best.

And perfect. They were a few minutes late. Getting there early would have been so boring. Just like Sasori.

Deidara stepped inside, no longer on the warm pavement but instead the cool stone floor. The lobby still had a few people but they’d been mostly corralled onto the auditorium. Deidara looked around. Wait. Was that really Shisui? Didn’t he speak soon? And--there he was. Itachi. Deidara was somewhat at a loss for what he wanted to do next, so he just fell in behind them as they turned to enter the auditorium.

It was time for Shisui and Itachi to part ways. Konan had directed a look at him across the room. “I’ll come find you right after, Okay?” Shisui beamed.

Itachi decided he would stand in the back, as the presentations were only to be introductory and short. He shouldn't be in here that long. He paused and looked over his shoulder, noting a familiar and unmistakable blond trailing.

Oh yeah. Deidara.

Asides from Shisui and Konan, that was the only name in the room he could remember. Itachi leaned back against the wall as some alumna he didn't recognize began a warm spiel about her internship experience and opportunities. Itachi was still watching Shisui as he made his way towards the front to wait for his small showcase. 

Deidara saw Itachi drift towards the back wall. What to do. It seemed like he would only stand in the back. So Deidara would too. He didn’t have anywhere he really wanted to sit. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d wanted to come so badly anyway. He didn’t have a particular interest. So he went to stand in the back too, quietly.

"Deidara." Itachi greeted him without looking at him as he wandered his way. The blond just barely met his shoulders, and standing next to each other the height difference was explicit. Itachi had not yet examined him enough to notice his missing shoes. "Naturally I'd find you at an event like this."

Deidara pretended that Itachi was not his final destination. “Ah, Itachi.” Most of the people here were upperclassmen. He didn’t recognize anybody else except for Sasori, Shisui, and he assumed Konan was here too. “Naturally?” He huffed lightly but otherwise ignored the comment. “Do you have a display here tonight, Itachi?” The blond had to really tilt his head up to see him, but he’d expected that, with no shoes. “And to see Shisui’s I assume? You two are close.”

"No. I do not. And yes, of course, Shisui is - " Itachi turned his head to look at Deidara, for the first time noticing his lack of shoes. "Family."

He gave Deidara a somewhat serious look then turned his head once more. Strange. But Itachi was not the kind to question the choices of others, so he decided it'd be best to move on. "Truthfully," he started over, lowering his voice. "I'm only here for his sake."

Sasori had been correct. Itachi did have a hard time telling his Shisui no. Deidara smirked, brushing some of his hair back. His eye contact was direct and unflinching, and his eyes sparkled. “Now that’s a shame. I was looking forward to finally seeing some of your work, hm.”

He then returned the serious look without flinching. So Itachi didn’t care. “Oh, so Shisui’s family. His work is always so inspiring. If it weren’t for him would we ever see you?” His eyes flashed up at his. The smirk crept wider.

Itachi raised his eyebrows slightly, facing ahead as the small crowd broke out in tepid applause. He was taken a little off guard at being seen through so transparently, especially from Deidara. He tilted his head down and made the indication of a short laugh, though nothing could be heard.

"I wonder."

He said it with some distant amusement at being exposed. "Well what about you Deidara. We seem to be running into each other quite a bit."

Deidara grinned, but his eyes remained dangerous. Making Itachi react like that seemed to be a win. “Well. Didn’t you just say it happens naturally? Maybe it can’t be helped.” Something made Deidara come on so strongly even though he hadn’t verified if it was safe yet. But maybe that was why.

The crowd quieted as they waited for the next speaker. Konan took her time gathering her things and walking across the stage, with each step a click from her shoes.

Itachi finally cut his dark eyes over towards the blond and paused. He then cast his gaze downwards, away. "Sounds like you're making excuses." His delivery was plain, but his voice quieted some.

His back was still pressed against the wall, and from this angle, his hair was somewhat obscuring his expression. Itachi was aware that he was being played with, but for what purpose, he was somewhat uncertain. He found himself unsure of how much he wanted to give away right now.

Konan took the stage. She had begun her short introduction.

Deidara remained smiling. “So what if I am?” 

What Deidara couldn't see was the way in which Itachi's face begun to flush considerably. He was still hiding behind his hair, masking his unsure expression. "..."

The blond could sense Itachi was retreating because he’d chipped through his defenses. Deidara didn’t mind if he didn’t give it all away. He turned his head toward the stage. “You know Konan well too? She and Shisui seem close.”

The change in topic was welcome. Itachi recomposed himself.  "No...I don't know Konan very well. But she is close with Shisui. They've known each other a long time, so by proxy, I know her. I could introduce you, if that's what you're after."

He had been taken a little off guard this evening already, attempting to determine his place amongst the event. Truth be told he did not care to network at all. He was hoping to make a quick escape after seeing to all his social duties and making the motions. Right here, he was not certain if engaging Deidara was putting him at ease or further deconstructing him. Probably both. It was difficult to parcel out.

Deidara shrugged. He really had no idea what he was doing here. It had been a mixture of annoyance he wasn’t invited (no matter what the event actually was), and outside of his conscious thought— because Itachi was there. And it was pleasing he didn’t seem to have any responsibilities outside of seeing Shisui. “If you want to, but I assume I’ll meet her at some point.” He couldn’t see his counterpart’s face but he did see how he seemed to be hiding it from him. It was pleasing.

“We all like Shisui. But for real, though.” He decided to press more. “I haven’t seen a scrap of your work. And I’m sure you exhibited last year at some point.” He leaned closer. “Shisui talks highly of you.”

It was somewhat bullshit, but. He assumed it to be true.

"Shisui speaks highly of anyone he likes." Itachi dismissed him and continued looking down, shutting his eyes briefly at the comment. Shisui. Of course he does. He was beginning to suspect Deidara's pressing was orchestrated by Shisui in the first place. Maybe. It wasn't unlike him to pull stunts from behind the scenery like this.

Honestly, Itachi never really knew what to say when people asked about his art. It felt stupid to describe and pointless to discuss. It was something that existed because he willed it to and spent the time with it, but in reality, it existed for no great conviction or cause and Itachi wasn't certain how he felt about the fact. At the very least, he wasn't sure what to say.

"I paint..." he repeated familiarly, distantly. He finally lifted his chin and faced forward.

That's right. This was a networking event.

He reached in his pocket to pull out a neat business card holder and selected one to present to Deidara.

"This has my information on it."

Deidara grasped it and stared at it. He was a little put off at how he’d made such a good stride but then fell flat anyway. “Hm.” The card was in a lot of ways like Itachi himself. Dark and simply designed at first glance. “Thanks.”

Art should make them think. Or....the mystery of it could make them think. What a weird guy.

Deidara looked to the stage, but didn’t step away from Itachi. Konan took a short bow, then introduced Shisui. Some applause broke out. His name was already pretty recognized.

Itachi allowed his attention to be pulled from his peer as he looked over at the stage, watching Shisui cross it. Deidara had not exchanged his card, he noted. He had waited expectantly, this is what this event ultimately was for right? Itachi let it go. If Deidara was truly interested his information would be easily found.

Itachi continued pressing his back against the wall as he watched Shisui deliver a short spiel on his growing art career. Even from here, Shisui seemed so big on stage. A big presence--not too loud. It didn't matter how much time had passed, he supposed. Shisui was always going to feel bigger than him. Itachi had no doubts in him. Still, he’d had heard and seen all of this material before. He was happy to be here as support, but his interest was not right now the sharpest. His gaze wandered again to the floor. Deidara had apparently decided to settle back here with him until the end of the presentation. Itachi again noted the blond's lack of shoes.

"Your feet--are they hurting you?" he began. "You should take a seat."

Deidara hadn’t expected Itachi to interact with him again, really, let alone turn away from his beloved Shisui’s talk. But Itachi did seem a little off. Maybe even distracted. Shisui was quite the presence. He could make anyone feel at ease. It was remarkable. He’d only been up there a minute or two. But Itachi wasn’t at his most involved, it seemed. Deidara could feel a different energy.

He turned back to his counterpart. He smiled wide. “It’s precisely because they hurt that I took my shoes off. But now. Hey. I’m feeling alright, hm.” He laughed to himself. But then he cut his eyes a little, one side of his lip turning upward. “Thanks for your concern.”

Itachi raised his eyebrows slightly once more as he looked down at Deidara. His aggression took him off guard every time, but he remained unshaken. Something about it felt unpointed, teasing, albeit forceful. Deidara. What was he really after. He always seemed up to something, and he seemed like he wanted you to know -- he just didn't want to share any details.

Itachi continued looking down at the aggressor beside him. He gave a somewhat wry smile in return. "You're welcome."

He then turned to see out the remainder of Shisui's presentation.

Deidara was enjoying himself. For some reason really tiny reactions from Itachi were pleasing to him.

Shisui finished and smiled broadly at his audience. During the modest applause, his eyes searched the crowd for Itachi. Towards the back. Not a surprise. Something about him brightened when he saw him, though.

A few minutes later, as they turned to step back into the lobby, Itachi felt Deidara turn back to him. “Here.” Between two fingers he held a business card, which he pressed into his hand. Then he turned away. Where the hell was Sasori.

Itachi looked at the card left in his hand. It was his own. His expression remained still as he watched Deidara make his way through the crowd. As he flipped the card over he noticed written in gel pen what was presumably Deidara's phone number. Itachi blinked once and looked again into the crowd. He could still make out Deidara from here, but he was quickly fading into the crowd. He had no difficulty weaving between people, and it seemed like he was looking for someone. 

Deidara realized he felt his heart racing. Why was giving Itachi his number making him anxious? He never really felt anxious while flirting. He’d gone out on more of a limb than usual, he supposed, but would he usually care? No. Something about those tiny smiles. It made him feel like he’d made progress even if itachi remained so stoic. What a weird guy.

Itachi paused before flipping the card around in his hand once more then grasping it in his palm. He wasn't sure what he felt entirely about Deidara yet, but right now, he almost felt like he could smile. Before he could settle on a reaction, he was interrupted by a cheerful Shisui's hand on his shoulder. Again that bouncing energy. It startled him as he whipped around to meet him.

Shisui squeezed Itachi’s shoulder, his fingertips gentle. “Sorry if I scared you!” He laughed lightly, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Thanks for coming, Itachi. I know that was probably kinda boring.”

Shisui was warm, and his energy hadn't waned. He was still excited from the thrill of performance. Itachi slid the card into his back pocket, made eye contact, and shook his head.

"No. It was well done, Shisui." Itachi complimented him plainly but honestly.

One of Shisui’s lips turned upward. “Why thank you, Itachi.” He looked as if he thought to himself for a moment. “Let’s go to my table.”

It was just a modest display, but Konan had helped Shisui make it look nice alongside hers. She waved to Itachi. She was gentle but her expression remained serious. “Shisui, you always take so long.” 

Itachi dipped his head in acknowledgement at Konan's wave. He only knew her through Shisui as they had never hung out by themselves, but it was enough to recognize each other lightly. Both of them looked very professional here, dressed in darker colors, their work displayed neatly. 

Shisui brushed her off gently. He apparently didn’t worry that much. “Ah! I have someone I want you to meet, Itachi. They organized my exhibit in New York. And they seem excited to meet you!”

He also had something he wanted to ask Itachi. But he wanted to save it for later.

Itachi nodded. If Shisui trusted him and wanted to introduce him, he would concede and do his best to follow through. He prepared himself for the opportunity.

Shisui looked around. There weren’t a huge number of people but it was still difficult to scan. The lady approached in a few minutes, though. Itachi knew she was coming because Shisui grinned again.

“So this is Itachi.” She smiled at him, then laughed. “Both of you are so tall. But when I hear news of another Uchiha, I definitely want to meet them.”

She looked at Itachi and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. From what Shisui’s shown me, I would certainly suggest applying to our program.”

Itachi took the lady's hand graciously. "It's a pleasure." He returned. They continued to exchange information, Itachi reaching for a new card to send with her, flushing slightly as he flipped past the one Deidara had returned. 

He listened politely to some of the details she listed out for him. "It was refreshing to work with Shisui, really. He was a pleasure and his work was well received. He's shown me some of the work you've collaborated on, you know."

Itachi opened his mouth in reflex. He did not recall any formal collaborations of the sort, nothing worth displaying, anyway. He made a quick side eye at Shisui.

"Thank you...." He nodded politely, understanding the weight of the compliment. Despite the opportunity being served so explicitly, Itachi was detached, just going through the motions. He knew that he was not going to be leaving here any time soon. He would not admit it to Shisui, but college itself was feeling more and more like something he was doing only because he was bound to it by others’ expectations.

Shisui was so proud. Itachi could feel the energy radiating from him. Shisui was so used to him being detached that he didn’t stop to consider that he actually was less interested than he thought. But if he knew, he would try to press him some. He wanted the best for him but it was often too aggressive.

The lady did eventually move on, still with a glowing view of Itachi.

Shisui’s smile turned a little sheepish. He’d been caught. He hadn’t shown her anything super personal of Itachi’s— he would feel intense guilt about that, but it was work they’d done together that wasn’t for a school assignment. He stared at Itachi for a moment, waiting for his reaction.

Itachi paused, watching the lady go, then turned sharply back.

"Collaboration huh." Itachi's eyebrows creased slightly though he remained somewhat soft. Shisui had overstepped, but only by a small bit. It was forgivable coming from him.

Itachi looked forward once more and exhaled. "You press too hard."

Konan gave Shisui a firm look from her table. Apparently she’d known of his plan. Shisui shut his eyes and tilted his head to one side, smiling. He wasn’t surprised at all about Itachi’s reaction. “I’m sorry. I just love your work. And I knew she would, too.”

He knew it was a bit selfish of him to project onto Itachi. But he laughed lightly. “I suppose now would be a bad time to ask you if you wanted to collaborate with me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was hoping you’d want to be part of my final project for the semester.”

Itachi looked at him, the crease in his brow easing. Shisui brought his hands down, looking pleadingly back. Itachi gave away some of his uncertainty by his look of small surprise, then quickly looked away, turning his head. He wasn't shocked by this, but it was certainly another responsibility to live up to. However, the responsibility was also an honor. Itachi smoothed down the side if his pant leg with one hand before he looked back at Shisui, giving him a small and forgiving smile.

"You're exploiting me, Shisui," he scolded with warmth.

It wasn't just a sense of duty towards his senior. Itachi wanted to. He enjoyed the things they created together, and to be able to spend time with his Shisui after he had been gone so long, Itachi found himself looking forward to it, even if it was extra effort.

Shisui was earnest, both guilty and pleased. “That’s what I’m here for.” He hummed. “Stars are always having people look to exploit them. Better get used to it.” His eyes glittered. “And of course I don’t want to take you from your other work. Just take whatever time you have on it. I’d just like your touch to be there, you know?”

Konan chimed in, at first with a serious expression, but it softened to a subtle smile as she spoke. “He’s been rehearsing this. And then of course he goes completely away from his plan.”

Itachi directed his attention to the figure seated in the booth across from them. Shisui made a small, but audible expression of embarrassment at Itachi's side.

"Sounds familiar,” Itachi said plainly, without a beat. Though his manner was soft, his phrasing was blunt, creating a bit of a mixed delivery. There was a pause of silence before Konan made a small huff of laughter. They both knew Shisui all too well. 

"It's been a while, Konan." Itachi greeted politely.

She smiled wryly, apparently not concerned with Itachi’s unusual manner. “It’s been too long, Itachi.” She flicked her eyes to Shisui. “I’ve got to make sure he doesn’t try to present himself as so cool.” 

Shisui smirked back at her. “I never tried to do that.”

She laughed. “Yeah, Okay.” She smiled knowingly at Itachi. “But I’m sure you know how excited he is to ask.”

Itachi offered a subtle but warm smile, shifting from his flat expression. They were giving Shisui a hard time. It was sometimes low hanging fruit. 

The evening continued like this. Itachi found himself mostly floating around Shisui and Konan as they greeted a few people they recognized. Shisui had encouraged him to continue putting his information out, but to no avail. Really, after tonight, what more was to be done? Itachi found his thoughts wandering back to the scrawled-upon card resting in his back pocket. He’d been approached by two decidedly separate energies tonight neither which he had been expecting. 

Itachi watched as Shisui interacted with people. He was sweet and often introduced people to Itachi, but it was his art being displayed and that always became the object of conversation. Not that Itachi particularly wanted to be talked about.

At some point, in a lull, Shisui gave both Itachi and Konan a butterscotch. She called him an old man.

After about 45 minutes of politely idling, Itachi touched the side of Shisui's arm lightly to get his attention. It was harder to do right now with all the social activity taking place, but Itachi knew from experience that small touches better captured his attention. "Shisui, I -- think I'm going to head home now." His eyes, previously unfocused on the one he addressed, lifted to look directly at him.

"Thank you, Shisui. I'm happy."

Shisui gently set his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming, Itachi. I’m happy too.” His eyes twinkled. “I’m so glad! Think about it, though. Although I know I get more out of the arrangement.” He laughed. He wanted to hug him but knew he might not want to in such a public place. “Hey, I’ll see you later?”


	10. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kakashi is faced with the inconvenient task of dealing with Naruto and Sasuke.

Sasuke diffused back into reality, where Sakura was softly crying and his English teacher was intervening. All at once a sharp pain blossomed across his face. His nose was beginning to really bleed, a spatter of blood was expanding little by little, a dark stain on his white shirt. He had nothing to clean it up with. He attempted to suppress a wince from the messy pain, still looking over at Naruto who was coughing dryly. Reluctantly, he broke eye contact to meet Kakashi’s, standing a few feet away from them, hands by his pockets, an oddly collected, almost bored presence. It was unclear how he was going to react.

Kakashi's eyes flickered from Sasuke and then back to Naruto. Yamato had just been in his room to complain about those two, and the new kid certainly.matched the description. There had been viable tension between the pair in his own class, as well. What little surprise he had felt over Sasuke engaging in a fight on school grounds was quickly eclipsed by the sight of his messy nose. Kakashi's eyes fell on Naruto.

"...Jesus." He sighed shortly and kicked away a pencil that was lying near his feet. "What was going on in those idiot heads of yours anyway?"

He paused, then his voice took on an exasperated lilt as he scolded. "You know this isn't something I'm allowed to overlook. Sasuke, go follow Sakura and get cleaned up. You're making a mess."

Sasuke’s face was going to bruise. Naruto hadn’t held back. Sakura clicked her tongue. Her fear at the aggression diminished as she realized it was granting her a chance to doctor Sasuke. Boxing had also given her experience at first aid. His shock at the blood, now flowing freely, allowed her to be able to tenderly take his arm and lead him away towards the bathroom. She began to do what she could to stop the blood, pulling out several paper towels.

Sasuke held his nose with his free hand. He flinched as Sakura placed her hand on his arm, and he attempted to steady his trembling hands.  It was just beyond his control. Sakura was careful and refrained from taking his hand this time, realizing it was best to relax her presence just a bit. He had scared her after all, though her sentiments still rested warmly with him. He was staring through the ground as she glanced over at him, his face again obscured by his hair. Sakura almost didn't expect him to accept her help, and she approached him gently and with caution, but Sasuke had become still. For the first time in a while, he wasn't actively pushing her away. She looked at the blood that had made a mess of his face and clothes. Noses always bleed so ugly. She knew he would be fine but the sight stirred her concern.

"Don't tilt your head up....It'll just get in your mouth," she softly instructed, handing him some more paper towels. Sasuke made a faint hiss at the pain before continuing to clean his face. He brought the towel down momentarily, continuing to avoid eye contact with Sakura.

"Thank you."

Sakura was gentle. She knew it must really hurt. Her hand rested on his arm instead of his hand. Her amount of constraint was remarkable. She didn’t want to take advantage of his shock and embarrassment, just accepting the bit of tenderness she was allowed to give him. He wasn’t making eye contact with anything. His white shirt had a huge spill of red on it now. At least the girls’ bathroom was empty now after hours. Not that Sasuke really seemed to notice. What didn’t come easily to her were words. She didn’t understand the strange exchange of aggression or know what would alleviate his feelings. The silence was heavy. He at least hadn’t pushed away. She was surprised when he thanked her. “You’re welcome.” Her response rang strange but she didn’t know what else to say.

The blood finally slowed, and Sasuke removed the paper towels from his face and begun to wash the rest off in the sink. The water flattened his hair some and it clung to his face. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment before taking in a breath and returning to Sakura. This was the closest he'd let her be in a long time, though there was a heavy stiffness to it. He seemed tired. Sakura wanted to say something, and she opened her mouth to do so.

"....nevermind."

Her restraint today surprised herself. This whole event had just put her in a state of unease. It was the feeling of missing somebody.

x-x-x-x-x

Naruto finally caught his breath after a full minute of coughing. He looked up at Kakashi. No doubt Sakura wouldn’t have painted him in a flattering way. 

So he didn’t say anything, beginning to feel very sick. He couldn’t believe he actually did that. “Sasuke was...being a jerk,” he said pointlessly.

Kakashi looked more tired than anything else. He had work to do and didn’t want to be dealing with this. “I’m going to call home for you. Someone’s going to have to pick you up. We’ll sort the rest out with the principal tomorrow morning. She already went home, I imagine.”

Naruto bit his lip. “They’re not going to come get me.”

Kakashi stared flatly down at his student. "Oh?" he inquired dryly. He knew little about his new student. His circumstances were labeled "special" by the administration and he understood his living situation must be unconventional. 

Kakashi, did, however, have familiarity with Sasuke. It didn’t surprise him that he was able to get under Naruto's skin: that kid was stuck up. But still, to just go straight to attacking him, that was a degree of recklessness he didn't expect. "I can't let either of you leave without notifying your guardians. How will you get home?"

Naruto twisted his face and looked down. “Jus’ was going to bike home.” He knew the trouble was serious, and he got into it so quickly. He didn’t know why it was so attracted to him. A pit of worry began to burrow in his stomach. He’d been relocated due to being “trouble”, and it could happen considerably short of violence. This was a bad label to have. His stomach ached where he was punched but he also knew that Sasuke very much appeared the victim here, and Naruto had started it. It looked bad.

“I don’t think they’d come here,” he repeated again pointlessly.

Kakashi creased his brow. It appeared hopeless, and he decided that there was likely no point in calling anyone. Still, he couldn't just allow either of them to leave as if nothing had occurred. That was a lack of supervision not even Kakashi could cross. He sighed lightly.

"You don't have anyone you can call?"

Sasuke and Sakura returned silently from the bathroom, pacing slowly towards the two.

Sakura’s restraint was good for Sasuke. He wouldn’t have been able to react in a graceful way. He was tumbling through all sorts of thoughts and emotions that seemed to whirl back and forth. He couldn’t stick on one. And it made him react slowly and coldly. Now his hair and shirt were wet from washing them in the cold water. He and Sakura ended up having to keep some towel in his nose because it refused to completely stop. He let her guide him. But he seemed to be made out of stone. Regardless, Sakura felt the closeness. She hadn’t been that near to him in a very long time, especially with him in a more vulnerable state. It just felt so strange. It wasn’t what she wanted.

Kakashi sighed. Of course it couldn’t be easy. Of course it was when the principal would already be gone. Naruto was quiet a moment. “...I could try but I don’t think they can come get me.” It was really an impossible situation. He didn’t know anyone else.

Kakashi looked up. He guessed he’d ask Yamato what he thought. Now, though, he saw Iruka  walking down the hallway. The new teacher. Probably not a wealth of wisdom regarding situations like this. Iruka approached and looked between the boys. “What’s going on here?”

Kakashi turned his head to face Iruka. He knew he was young and it was his first year here at this school. He would be unfamiliar with both Sasuke and Naruto. Kakashi felt in a sense sorry for him, seeing such a clash between students so soon. Really though, it couldn't be helped. Maybe it was better to be immersed quickly and quickly dispel any naivety regarding their student population.

"Oh, Iruka." Kakashi greeted him dryly, feeling fortunate enough to remember his name. "These two got into a fight."

He eyed the mess they’d made, their papers still littered on the ground, then to the darkening stain on Sasuke's clothes.

"I think it would be best to separate the two for now. You weren't headed home were you?" Kakashi looked back up. "I'll take Sasuke. Take Naruto, Iruka." He shoveled the responsibility of the new student onto the hapless passerby.

Kakashi looked at Sasuke without saying anything. He met his teacher’s eyes coldly, removed, before picking up his belongings and following him back to his classroom, separating finally from an unsettled Sakura.

Iruka was leaving, but he didn’t mention it. He recognized Naruto from one of his science classes. But Sasuke, no. He heard about him but didn’t have him for anything. Naruto didn’t make eye contact with either teacher. He just watched Sasuke coldly as he picked up his backpack and what had spilled out, then shuffled after Kakashi.

Iruka was already getting the impression that this is what Kakashi often did. Pushed things onto other people. But Iruka thought this may be better anyway. He’d taken an interest in Naruto over the last week.

“Naruto. What’s the meaning of this?” His voice was naturally less firm than Kakashi’s. 

Naruto just looked at his shoes as he scuffed them on the floor. He didn’t answer.

Iruka turned to Sakura. “They probably made you late for your club, huh? You can go now, if you’d like. It’s ok.”

Sakura startled a little at being addressed. She was clearly consumed with unease and worry, but Iruka's demeanor was reassuring. Reluctantly, she nodded, readjusting her backpack on her back before returning late to her club meeting. It would be difficult to keep her head there after all that had transpired this afternoon.

Iruka was a little shaken. He didn’t catch any details except for noticing how Sasuke wore a red stain on his shirt and how Naruto didn’t. They walked back to his classroom in silence. Something that seemed unusual from Naruto. He flipped his classroom's lights back on before indicating for Naruto to take a seat. Iruka followed suit, seating himself on his desk.

"Naruto." He sighed. Naruto couldn’t help but feel at fault for getting Iruka in this situation, Kakashi's voice was much more commanding despite his bored tone and delivery.

"Naruto, you've been here what, only a few weeks and you already are starting fights? What could he have possibly have done that warranted that kind of hostility?" Iruka was being open, though he scolded. He seemed to have more interest in talking about things than Kakashi may have. Though he kept a stiff expression, it was clear this guy was soft.

Naruto was feeling sick now. He just wanted to go home. Iruka was looking directly at him, and he couldn’t hide anywhere. The personal nature of Iruka’s tone simultaneously bothered him and comforted him. It was strange and alien for someone to actually want him to explain his side of the story. But when they were impersonal it usually was over quickly. What could they do? Suspend him? He didn’t think it was enough to be expelled. He hadn’t been expelled from a school before. It was homes that were the issue.

“....he’s just so mean. To everyone. Nobody deserves to be treated that way.” He knew it sounded dumb now. He just kept looking away. The softness confused him. He just wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

"So you're going to punch him in the face?" Iruka questioned his logic, squinting his eyes with an incredulous expression. He reigned himself in for a second, looking over the kid. He had his arms and head on the desk and was avoiding looking at him. Truth be told, Naruto's reaction didn't seem that crazy to Iruka. In fact from what he understood, it almost seemed understandable. Nonetheless, it's not as if he could condone physical violence on school grounds.

"Look." He inhaled, his voice quieting some. "Even if Sasuke was being a jerk, this looks bad on you Naruto." He wiped his hand down his face. "You know I'm going to have to call your parents right?" He indicated for Naruto to get out his phone.

Naruto couldn’t do it. His eyes rolled sideways and he jerked himself upward from the chair messily. Thankfully he knew where the trash can was. He threw up. It hurt really badly.

Iruka hadn’t expected that. A look of confusion came over his face. He froze in shock for a moment and then jumped from his seat. “Oh man, he got you good, huh?” He softened, then stepped to the side to grab Naruto some paper towels. Naruto held them to his face miserably. He finally answered: “....I know.”

Iruka softened again. “Naruto. Who should I call to come and get you?”

Naruto shrugged his shoulders clumsily. Iruka smiled, sympathetic almost. “You’re afraid of them knowing?”

“....they jus’ won’t come and get me. they have other kids to take care of.” Naruto still didn’t make eye contact.

Iruka sighed. He wasn’t sure if it was what he should do. But it was what he wanted to do. “I’ll drive you home.” The kid seemed to have enough for today. No doubt there would be something tomorrow.

This kid was a mess. He tried so hard for so long to tough it out and save face but his true exhaustion was now being exposed. He was at his limit and it was getting to him. It was getting late. Clubs were dismissing and the light filtering in through the blinds was beginning to dim. Iruka reflected once more. Really, he wasn't sure this was the right thing to do. He was new here and he didn't know this student. It was becoming clear though, no one would pick him up. He didn't want to send the poor kid who’d just vomited from a punch to the gut to ride home alone on his bicycle in the dark. Sure, Naruto had caused trouble. Somewhat serious trouble involving harming another student. But he seemed like a truly genuine and honest kid. Something about him felt like he couldn't tell a serious lie to save his life. Maybe that's why Iruka was so prepared to accommodate. Naruto could have done much worse. And really. Iruka felt for him. Naruto couldn’t hide the fact he was in pain. He slouched some after he’d finally cleaned himself up.

Iruka lifted his car keys out of his khakis, jangling as he blinked the lights to his outdated car. There was a bumper sticker or two plastered on the back, including one for some nearby community college.

"You're going to have to show me where you live, Naruto," he instructed as he lifted Naruto's bike into the back of his car. Maybe he wasn’t setting the correct boundaries. But he really didn’t know what else to do. He found himself caring about what happens to this kid. 

Naruto sat in the front seat. “....Thank you for taking me.” He still didn’t make eye contact.

Iruka looked over at the kid staring out the window. He couldn’t pin what he was feeling, but all things considered, he guessed that should've been obvious.

"Don't worry bout it too much Naruto." Iruka looked into his overhead mirror, shifting his car into reverse. "You're not the first kid to ever get in a scuffle at school. The worst they can do is keep you home for a day or two. Max."

He shifted his car back into drive and turned onto the street. Iruka's words were honest and well intentioned, and he hoped they put Naruto at ease even just a bit. He knew the real issue lied less in school and more about how this news would affect his living situation. Truthfully he didn't know what he was sending Naruto home to.

It took a moment, but Naruto finally looked at him. Just for a moment. Iruka just smiled. And he was right. Worst case they’d keep Naruto home for a few days. Best case....which Naruto may not agree with, would be to sit with the counselor and Sasuke.

For the rest of the ride Naruto was quiet, but his energy changed from dark to more sick and fatigued.

The house Naruto directed him to was just a ranch-style house in one of the neighborhoods about a mile or two away. Iruka pulled up the the curb. “Will you be ok, Naruto?”

Naruto nodded and opened the door, pulling his backpack onto one shoulder. Then he retrieved his bike. “Thanks.” Naruto’s voice had lost its defiant edge. Iruka waved him goodbye. He waited to pull away from the curb until he saw Naruto unlock the door and enter the house.

x-x-x-x-x

Kakashi looked Sasuke up and down. “Jesus. You don’t need the nurse...or do you?” He knew Sasuke wouldn’t answer. “I guess we need to call your brother.”

Sasuke scowled dully at his teacher. Kakashi knew him well and hardly played around when it came to dealing with him. He didn't have to see the ordeal to know Sasuke was by no means entirely a victim. He was well aware that for whatever reason, Sasuke had this coming sooner or later. Nonetheless, he was disappointed and a little disturbed at the sudden escalation. What a mess.

"My car is parked here. There's no point in calling Itachi. He's at school." Sasuke protested dully, just stating the truth.

Kakashi studied Sasuke closely. He knew something about him was spiraling out of control. He’d grown suddenly less social to everyone. More moody. But this new kid? Wow. Punches him the second week he knows him. It was remarkable even. He guessed even if Sasuke was intolerable to the others, they had years of built-in rapport.

“Ah. When’s Itachi done with class? Like I told Naruto, it doesn’t seem right to me to let either of you just leave after all that.”

Sasuke met Kakashi's gaze and said nothing. A silent but explicit resistance. Legally, Itachi had to accept guardianship over Sasuke in order to keep his living arrangement, but in reality, he was just a brother who happened to be a few years older. And Sasuke didn’t want to see him. 

Kakashi returned his stare blankly, bored with the bravado. "You know Sasuke." He leaned back on his desk. "You could stand to make this a little easier. You're familiar with the saying, right? The nail that sticks out is the one that gets hammered down."

Sasuke was an exceptional kid and Kakashi recognized it, but all of this antagonism and resistance. It was becoming a troubling problem. Apparently now for others as well. He could see Sasuke slipping, and he was someone who was so smart and could go so far if he stuck with it. He’d even been punched over it now.

"Call Itachi. He'll come."

Kakashi sighed again as Sasuke completely ignored his words. He expected it. He just felt like they had to be said. “Alright then. I’ll call Itachi.”

It took about 40 minutes for Itachi to arrive. After the clipped call, Sasuke spent his time in Kakashi's classroom staring distantly out the window, watching the shadows mark time as they stretched across the carpet. The wait was long and the more time passed, the worse Sasuke looked. He looked overspent, his thin hair unkempt now after having dried from the sink water. His eyes were dull and empty. he almost looked like he could be sleeping with his eyes open. Generally, right now the sight of him created an sick and uneasy air and Sasuke appeared resigned to it. Despite his disappointment, the detectable atmosphere hurt somewhat, leaving Kakashi without much left to add, save for leaving a bottle of over-sweetened artificial juice cocktail from the school vending machines on his desk. The bruise, like a ghost, began to appear on Sasuke’s face, and kakashi could tell by tomorrow it would be quite visible.

Gentle footfall echoed distantly in the hallway. They both recognized who the sound belonged to long before he entered the classroom without a word. Itachi stepped partially into a shaft of light projected from the window and looked at Sasuke, his eyes immediately drawn to the blood staining his shirt. His eyes met his brother's shortly before returning to face Kakashi as he sat behind his desk.

"I'm sorry I've kept you waiting."

It was safe to say Itachi would be quite surprised. But he didn’t show anything on his face. It was unclear what he was thinking, as it had been on the phone when he had agreed to pick his brother up. Seeing him in person did not offer any more clarity. He addressed Sasuke's teacher only.

"What happened here, Kakashi?" Itachi’s eyes held a weight to them.

He addressed him informally, maybe uncomfortably so. But that was like Itachi. Those two held their differences but they were so alike in the end. Itachi's hair had grown out since he had seen him last. He had become long and slender, his face was less soft than Kakashi remembered. Itachi looked like an adult here, his face still and undisturbed. There was a darkness and a discomfort in the air between them. Their last meeting was not happy. Itachi was ignoring Sasuke for now.

Kakashi leaned back in his chair. “Well, Sasuke was involved in a fight this afternoon. He didn’t hit first, but he hit back.”

Itachi kept studying Kakashi, looking him up and down. It wasn’t surprising that Itachi showed very little on his face. “....so I didn’t feel comfortable just letting him leave alone today.”

Itachi paused, examining the bruise growing on Sasuke’s face then looked back at Kakashi.

"I see."

It was clear Itachi was put in a difficult position. He was called here as a guardian, but in practice he didn’t look considerably older than Sasuke. What was he really supposed to do about this?

Kakashi didn't know either. Still, it was true that he couldn't just send Sasuke on his way after such violence.

"I'm sorry we've kept you here." Itachi finally broke his unnerving eye contact, dipping his head.

Sasuke picked himself out of the desk and swung his backpack onto his shoulder. Itachi paused before following him, noticing the bottle of juice he carried with him out the door.

Kakashi watched as Sasuke shuffled after Itachi. At least he took the juice. Kakashi felt very tired. He knew Itachi was too young to be doing this. He just was at a loss as to what to do about it.

Guess just have to let the boys go to the counselor tomorrow. 

Itachi stepped out from the air conditioned school and onto the humid parking lot. Cars passed by on the back road in the distance, headlights glowing alongside the lowering sun. The heat enveloped all despite it being September, and the dampening sun was the only thing that made it tolerable to stand outside, as a white half moon gradually unobscured itself in the sky. Sasuke paused. As if suddenly thinking better about following behind his brother, he looked to the side and drew out his car keys. Itachi looked over at him, their two shadows slanted and thin on the pale and dusty concrete.

"Sasuke."

Itachi's gaze was drawn to the oxidized stain left on Sasuke’s shirt. This is where Sasuke would receive his unwelcome scolding, certainly. He cut his eyes softly at his brother, staring through his chest. How like Itachi. He would lecture him so absolutely. It would be so coldly conceited and disingenuous, the way it always was. Though he avoided his brother's face, Sasuke could feel those heavy eyes weighing over him. He did his best to dispel the quiet rage and nausea stirring in the pit of his stomach.

However, Itachi didn't scold. His voice was quiet. "You are coming home tonight, aren't you?"

A still quiet ensued amongst the day's heat radiating from the pavement. Sasuke's expression remained the same, continuing to stare through Itachi. Though the perceived weight from his brother's gaze eased, it was immediately replaced by a sick lightness in his core. Sasuke did his best to disarm the raw energy he felt in his chest. It was a tricky multitask: to appear present and feel his rubber soled shoes absorbing the warmth of the concrete while feeling so physically removed from his own body. His jaw was stiff. He couldn't remember the last time he swallowed, his mouth was so dry. It didn't matter.

He didn't know the answer.

Though he couldn’t see it, Itachi's stoicism finally budged, his expression melting the slightest bit. Sasuke wasn’t sure what to make of him in this moment as he took a step forward, closer.

"I trust you, ok."

Sasuke flinched lightly as Itachi pushed aside the hair over his forehead and tapped his head lightly.

"Just come home."

Itachi made his way back to his car.


	11. Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day at school.

The week had begun on a truly abysmal note. There was no avoiding the overwhelming atmosphere of dread that was set from yesterday afternoon, despite her usual cheeriness, Sakura simply could not conjure up her ability to downplay the violence that had occurred after school. Sasuke didn't even show up in either of their shared classes this morning, leaving her sitting across the room, finding her gaze wandering back to the student who was left: Naruto. Her head was not truly here taking notes with her, though her hand moved autonomously , scrawling down the information her professors left on the board. All of this was so contrary to her usual nature, erudite and accommodating--consistently socially aware. Yet now, for the third time, she caught herself staring in his direction, staring through his body language as he curled himself inward carefully, slumping in his desk. He looked sort of sick. Sakura recalled the image if him at gym period, huffing with his hands on his knees from a few laps that would have usually meant nothing to him. Their eyes met from across the room. Sakura looked away shortly expressing nothing but the slightest hint of a frown and drew her eyes to the knitted school carpeting. She was also remembering the way Naruto had instigated violence yesterday, his fist cracking against Sasuke’s face. The way Sasuke held nothing back as he forcefully drew him into a punch. She was beginning to feel sick with him.

Finally, the lunch bell.

Naruto was a bit quieter than usual today. There wasn’t a visible bruise on his stomach but he felt a specific ache coiling inside him. It made him want to slouch. His mind wandered against his will. He tried to focus on his classes but it felt like trying to hold sand in his palm. Sasuke. He hadn’t shown up today. Naruto remembered the sound his fingers made on his face. His knuckles cracked. His hand wasn’t sore but it was stiff and made it difficult to hold his pencil. It added to his attention issues.

He’d seen Sakura, but neither of them attempted to speak to each other. He just felt her staring at him, but whenever he glanced back at her, her eyes quickly diverted.

Whatever.

He picked up his bag and ducked out of class, wondering what the free lunch would be today.

Sakura saw that Ino had made it to the cafeteria first. She'd sat her purse down and waved instructively for her best friend to find a seat next to her, moving her and Sai's backpack out of the saved spot. Sakura paused. Normally she would have received the invitation expectantly and fallen into her daily habit and easy social circle, but her attentions lied elsewhere today, and not even her free period could settle her unease. She mouthed an energized sorry directed at her blonde friend, indicating she had made a prior commitment. Ino knew Sakura well enough, she wouldn't take it personally. She rolled her eyes and gave a little shrug before setting her backpack in its previous position and returning to chatting with Sai.

Naruto was seated towards the edge of the cafeteria. As she expected, he was alone. She paused for a long while before taking in a tired breath and approaching the blonde as he stared lifelessly at his tray. Wordlessly, Sakura set down her packed lunch with a hefty thud from the weight of her thermos inside. She proceeded to seat herself next to him, avoiding any eye contact, wearing a clear attempt at calm neutrality on her face.

The loneliness was oppressive. Naruto felt it nebulously push in from all angles, a dark shadow trying to obscure the edges of his vision. His hearing echoed in the cavity of his skull. He didn’t know if seeing people laugh made him feel they were laughing at him or if it was just the fact that laughing was such an alien concept. He let his mind wander much farther than the daylight, abovewater space where he usually stubbornly stayed.

"Hey....idiot,” she began, her voice stern. "You're not going to throw up or anything, are you?” Her comment couldn’t eclipse her sincere worry.

Naruto was genuinely surprised. He thought Sakura would turn her nose up at him again. It made sense to him after all, as there was no doubt she would side with Sasuke in this matter. But he did his best to hide his surprise. “Oh, uh. Hey Sakura.” He looked down and blinked but then returned his gaze to her, smirking some. “Hah, of course not.” He wondered what she could want to say, but even his curiosity seemed somewhat hollow.

Sakura looked at Naruto with distinct skepticism, her eyes giving him a quick glance over before she returned to her lunchbag and began carefully unpacking its contents.

"Liar. You look like crap." Her voice carried an exasperated note, her original edge was steadily softening, but the self imposed barrier remained intact. Her eyebrows creased slightly before she rubbed her forehead as if to nurse a headache and said nothing. Honestly she wasn't entirely sure what to say. She was angry with him, but she couldn't deny the sympathy nagging at her either. It was a conflicting pull. If Sasuke were here....well. Truthfully she probably wouldn’t be sitting here right now at all. She knew she wouldn't. In fact, part of the reason she chose to spend her lunch period sitting here was in the off chance Naruto knew anything about Sasuke in the first place. Sakura feared being too transparent amidst her motivations and struggled to pinpoint the appropriate tone. 

She opened her bag and pulled out a neat container divided into small sections of compartmentalized food. Everything looked fresh and plainly, but mindfully prepared. It primarily consisted of various sliced fruits and vegetables, with a longer section dedicated to protein. She ran her hand across the table and stared at the lunch she had prepared for herself. She wasn't very hungry anymore. The dull weight that had fallen upon her since entering the school this morning had yet to be lifted.

Naruto blinked. “Well, uh, thanks.” They weren’t fighting words. They sounded more distracted than anything else.

He glanced at her lunch then back at his. It wasn’t that he felt particularly hungry, but he was sensitive to differences today. Usually he wouldn’t mind that much or even really notice, but he felt millions of miles away from Sakura. Alienated. He knew it wasn’t actually true but he felt a simultaneous spotlight on him as he sat here as well as a smudging like he was being erased.

He had no idea why she was sitting by him. The coldness from her was exactly what he expected, and there is a strange comfort in events going as expected. But here she was. “Sasuke’s not here....” he began, but then he changed his mind. Bringing him up seemed wrong. He saw her face turn away. An awkward pause followed. Then he looked at her again. There must be something making her sit here. She hadn’t yelled at him or threatened or anything. “Ya’nno. I didn’t ever want to make you cry. I feel bad that I scared you.” His eyes were darkened some but were clear and genuine.

Sakura's eyes suddenly looked up to meet Naruto's, taken aback by the sudden sincerity of his apology. She wasn't sure what she expected by sitting near him at lunch, but it certainly wasn't that. It struck at the residual heaviness in her heart from last night. Her mouth fell open for a moment. A disturbing mixture of sadness and relief stirred within her and she looked down. She’d tried to forget about her tears, truthfully. They were weak and they didn't end up helping anybody in the end. Her hands curled into loose fists under the table.

".... Naruto." She finally said something. "What happened to Sasuke?" She unfolded her hands and placed them around the base of her thermos.

Naruto hadn’t planned that apology. But he didn’t regret it. It was genuine. He’d been upset with her but never wanted her to cry. He saw it struck some sort of chord in her, even if she didn’t want to show him a response. His eyes flicked back down to his tray.

“Sasuke.” He regretted pointing the conversation toward him but he also knew it would be on Sakura’s mind. His voice caught in his throat. “....I don’t know. He must have stayed home today.”

He’d strangely felt strange pangs of worry for him. What if he’d caused some damage? He knew his nose didn’t break. But Naruto couldn’t know what happened besides that. He bit his lip, avoiding her gaze and just followed her hands as they held her thermos.

Sakura didn't really respond. She continued to stare at her thermos before taking in a quiet, measured breath, almost a gentle sigh. It was true she was concerned about Sasuke. He never missed school, and her mind was drawing some unreasonable conclusions. Still. She couldn't entirely defend the way Sasuke instigated or the intent with which he came after Naruto either. Sasuke wasn't the only one she was worried about.

Sakura made a short a soft hum as she recomposed herself.

"You shouldn't fight him you know....both of you." She attempted a less heavy tone, correcting herself to include both of them. "But I guess you wouldn't know."

She frowned slightly, looking for the words she wanted to measure out. She was quiet and serious, unintimidated by Naruto's social presence. Her delivery had become somewhat simple, and though you could tell she was dealing with a lot of emotions, you could tell she was also setting them aside.

"I know he's been hostile. You don't have to like him or get along with him. But you shouldn't fight," she repeated, frowning some. She was unsure of how much to share.

"He's just.-- He hasn't always been like that. You don't know him, Naruto."

Naruto continued to stare at her hands. His eyebrows knit together. “I know, Sakura. I wasn’t thinking.” The overly simplistic nature of her suggestion put him off slightly, but he didn’t sense bad intentions, so he let it go. Especially since she added blame to Sasuke. But he let out a rough sigh. “Even if he hasn’t always been that way, he still shouldn’t act like that. And he’s not just mean to me. He’s mean to you.” He grumbled and looked away, but his hands still lay lax on his lap. Him being mean to others worse for some reason. But a spark of curiosity did settle in his mind about Sasuke. He’s different than before.

Sakura's frown deepened as she continued to stare at her untouched lunch. Her hands shifted to grip the thermos more tightly. That last comment made her feel queasy. She wanted to jump straight to Sasuke's defense, but there was some unfortunate and nagging truth to what Naruto said.

"Listen." She started again, a traceable hint of starched protectiveness in her delivery. She paused yet again, looking away. "I don't think it was right for him to fight you yesterday. But neither were you. You punched him first, Naruto. Yeah, maybe he was instigating, but you still fell for it." Her scolding was harsh as she looked back towards him. He’d reached a sensitive spot.

"You don't know him." She repeated before settling herself, smoothing over one mediocrely manicured hand with the other. She couldn’t hide her concern anymore, taking another small breath and continuing more quietly.

"We grew up together. He isn't a bad guy....I think he just wants to be left alone right now. He used not to be so antagonistic, he's actually kind of quiet…."

Sakura was trailing like she wasn't sure where she was going with this. "It's just-- you wouldn't know this, you just got here but-- "

She suddenly seemed awkward and uncertain. She seemed kind of sad and like she wasn't sure what to say.

"Sasuke lost his family last year."

She immediately felt bad about talking about him so vulnerably, the words felt wrong coming from her mouth somehow. "He lives alone with his brother. He hasn't really gotten along with people very well since then." Her worry was explicit at this point, but she settled back into a frown. In fact, it just seemed to be getting worse.

Naruto stared in front of him for a moment, but then the crease in his brow softened some in thought. Oh.

He could feel her guilt in telling him, radiating from her fingers nervously tapping at her thermos.

“....you’re right,” he eventually said, but he didn’t offer much more. He hadn’t disagreed with anything she said today. He still didn’t think Sakura should extend pardon for Sasuke’s behavior as far as she did (or at least for as long as she did), but at least he understood why. He could tell he shouldn’t press there. And she was right. He’d oversimplified Sasuke and he felt bad for it. Maybe he needed some sort of defender. It just didn’t sound right the way Sakura did it.

“....don’t worry. I won’t tell him you told me.” His eyes returned to hers. He was earnest. He knew Sakura would want to preserve her relationship with Sasuke. And her providing the information was not something she was obliged to do.

Sakura wore her concern openly as she glanced back at Naruto. Her breath was in her throat and she flushed lightly, still frowning at the strain of this conversation. A beat passed before she nodded curtly, a small thank you.

Whether she was willing to admit it or not, her heart had opened considerably. She had said enough for now. Naruto could interpret it as he will, but something about the way he talked to her so plainly indicated he understood the intimacy of what she’d shared about not only Sasuke, but herself as well.

There was a period of breathless, awkward silence between the two as they picked at their lunches.

"....geez. Naruto. You really don't look good though...." she said, resetting the tone with a light hearted exasperation. Sasuke had got him good yesterday. "Why don't you just go home?"

Naruto took a second to shake off the serious nature of their interaction. She’d given him something. It was weird so soon after he’d upset her. Sasuke. Of course it was more complicated than Naruto assumed.

One of his lips turned up. “I’d feel the same way at home, though. Might as well be here.” He also knew they wouldn’t just let him bike away either. If he sat at home he would feel like he was wasting time. And worse, he didn’t want anyone else to think he was slacking. And his excuse wasn’t very good either. Home from school because he got hurt fighting.

Sakura hummed flatly in doubt. She felt that if it were her, she probably would have done the same. In the end, maybe she was glad Naruto came to class today. There was some unexpected closure to yesterday's events that warmed her sympathies. Naruto was more transparent here than he realized: Sakura had watched him struggle through the majority of the day so far. He held himself together passably, but Sakura noticed. 

She wouldn't let Naruto know she’d made it for Sasuke. That was something she remembered from when they were young and paired together in elementary school. Sasuke's mom always packed him these. On the occasion she was invited to his home for schoolwork she’d been offered some by Mikoto. Maybe it was an idea better spent on Naruto anyway. She put her head in her hand, tired.

Sakura was right. Naruto didn’t realize how differently he’d acted today. He felt maybe he came off as a bit more quiet or tired but not to the extent he showed in reality. He found himself looking at the clock, counting the hours. But until what? He’d go home. He’d probably be too tired to play basketball. Time just seemed to drag out in front of him.

She looked down at the plain lunch he’d received on a square styrofoam tray: a pallid looking sandwich with some canned fruit on the side. It looked less than comforting. She hadn’t realized he’d had to be on the free lunch program. Sakura still had yet to eat her own, and she stared down at her nicely organized meal, decorated with colorful and freshly cut fruit.

"Here."

She reached in her lunch box and pulled out a small bundle of rice wrapped in plastic wrap. "It's just rice but. It'll keep you going," she encouraged instructively.

 

He blinked. “You sure...?” He took it into his hand. It was completely unexpected she’d be nice to him. Her green eyes even seemed concerned. She’d changed her mind apparently. He grinned. “Thanks. You don’t have to worry about me, though, Sakura.”

He began to unwrap it. Fresh food seemed to stand out in relief.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Sakura was being genuine. She hoped it helped a little bit, it just felt like the correct procedure. She sat next to Naruto now with an unexpected ease despite the tension she carried when  she’d approached.

"Really it's nothing," she assured him. It felt better, she thought, offering her food to Naruto under these circumstances than her original intent. Sakura stood up after a beat, packing her tidy lunch away and gave Naruto a small, but playful hit on his back.

"I'm going to catch up with Ino," she said casually, almost friendly. "Hang in there."

That was something Naruto hadn’t expected. He thought she’d be mad, and she was. But then she not only seemed to forgive him, but felt for him. Strange. But he was glad it didn’t have to all be hostility. Her unending pardon of Sasuke was still troublesome, but at least he had some perspective now. He knew somewhat where it came from. “Thanks Sakura.” She nodded and walked off.

He ate it thoughtfully, as well as the lunch he was given too. He couldn’t tell whether he was hungry or too sick to eat. Somewhat both.


	12. Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi and Deidara work on an assignment.

Deidara stared at his phone. Well, that wasn’t what he expected.

The first text read:

_i heard you need a ride_

And then:

_outside the studio at 5_

And then five minutes later:

_its itachi_

Apparently Itachi hadn’t thrown out his number. Deidara huffed, almost laughing. Well something had to make this assignment more interesting. Itachi in a museum. Where he belonged. But for him to willfully make it so they both go at once? Hm.

So he stood outside the studio and brushed his hair back. He still wasn’t quite used to the humidity. His hair, although thick, always fell flat back in the desert. Here he always had to tie it up in some way.

He tried not to think about his car. He’d tried to push it out of his mind but of course their next assignment was out of town. It’d been driven into the ground, essentially, and was probably dead for good. He honestly didn’t know how he’d pay for it.

At least he was distracted. He hadn’t expected Itachi to text him. The past few classes had been quiet and a little awkward, they exchanged very little. Deidara wasn’t bothered by it. He hadn’t known what Itachi would do. But Itachi texting him like this, for a purely practical reason, was off-putting but somewhat funny to him.

He saw Itachi’s car and shaded his eyes with his hand, smirking.

Itachi pushed his hair out of his face before fishing for his sunglasses and turning up the air conditioning. The car was an oven, cooking for hours under the early autumn Savannah sun. It had been a little over a week since Deidara had left him with his number, which meant he had spent over a week sleeping on it. At some point Itachi had heard about the bad luck Deidara had been having and was without a ride for their latest assignment, to visit an out of town exhibition and report on it. Maybe it was pity, or maybe he had been looking for an excuse, but Itachi pulled up to the studio wandering if Deidara would accept. Sure enough, there he was.

Admittedly, Itachi acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation. Still, an assignment was an assignment, the embarrassment he may have felt had already slid off his shoulders. Itachi nodded in greeting before checking his phone for directions. "It's about a 30 minute drive but I wanted to head out before traffic picks up." He set his phone back down and looked at Deidara as he slid into the seat. "Sorry for the rush. I hope that's ok." He shifted his car back to drive.

Deidara smirked some. “No worries.” Itachi was so serious. Deidara took his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on, then leaned back in the seat, resting his head in his arms. His eyes watched Itachi’s hands as he  began to pull away from the studio. It was silent for a moment. Deidara clicked his tongue. “You from here, Itachi?”

"I was born here." Itachi responded measuredly. "But I only moved back for college so many of the places I'm familiar with have changed." It was almost a disclaimer. His expression was unreadable but clearly still behind his sunglasses. This place really had changed quite a bit by the time he’d returned. "I know my way around though. What about you?"

Deidara didn't seem like he was from here. As a native, and with a family as ingrained in the community as his was, sometimes a vibe was enough of a giveaway.

Deidara laughed. “Oh I’m from far away.” He gazed at Itachi. “But don’t go there. It’s quite intolerable.” Apparently that was extremely amusing. He smiled to himself.

"I'll take your word for it," Itachi responded, eyebrows raised ever so slightly. Something about his delivery made it seem like Deidara wanted to bury the topic anyway. 

So Itachi was from here. Strangely, Deidara couldn’t tell.

“If you decided to come back here, it can’t be too awful a place, hm?” His gaze was incessant. “Do you know anywhere, you know... fun?” Campus was campus, but it wasn’t enough.

Itachi paused before making a short, dry note of laughter. "Fun. Depends on what kind of fun you're looking for." He had a feeling he and Deidara had different ideas. "Really though. I don't get out much. I take it campus life doesn't suit you either."

Itachi was being unusually open today. He usually didn't indulge in small talk, nor did he detail his own habits.

Deidara shrugged, shutting his eyes and smirking. “Ah you know. Like how art should make you think. Campus never. Makes you think.” He laughed at the irony. “If you don’t mind me saying so, I got the impression that you had refined tastes, Itachi.” Deidara definitely thought Itachi was exaggerating how uninteresting he was. “Because it may be a surprise to you, but I do too.”

"Oh?" Itachi raised his eyebrows, still focused on the road ahead of them. "Such as?" Deidara's defensive energy had piqued his interest. Besides, he wondered what Deidara did to occupy himself outside of class. Itachi himself wasn't quite sure what _refined tastes_ he himself possessed.

Deidara glanced at him through the corner of his eye. “Well. You’re always so far up there. God knows what you’re thinking about. You like art that makes people think. Forces them to.” His grin flashed. “You probably go home. Cook some well - but not over-seasoned dinner. Drink some wine. Contemplate.” It was apparently quite amusing. “And well. Here we are going to a museum. And there’s only a small chance you’ll tell me what your opinions are.”

Itachi couldn't hide the smile that crept across his face as he turned into their destination. He was being read. Deidara wasn't far off, cooking and wine drinking were apparently some of his more savored hobbies. Itachi laughed gently, louder than he had times before. "I was referring to you." Deidara always seemed to put things back on him, challenging every little thing he said. "Besides. I have a feeling your opinions are more interesting than mine." He parked the car.

Itachi’s smile and laugh were exactly what Deidara had wanted. Achieving a reaction, any at all, was already a success for him. For some reason he always seemed to glance at Itachi now when he was around. He could feel his presence tangibly as either of them entered the classroom. And he would occasionally react, which was more than Deidara saw him react for anyone except for the rare times Shisui escorted him to class. His smirk broadened. “Yeah? What makes you say that?”

Itachi had loosened up considerably since the few strained conversations they had in class-- though that wasn't saying much. he still carried a certain seriousness.

"Well." He drew in a breath, removing his sunglasses. "I kept your number didn't I?"

Itachi abruptly unfolded himself out of the car and flatly shut the door.

Deidara glanced at him. “Ha.” He shut the door. “So I can entertain you with all my base opinions?” He still watched Itachi’s face closely, even from several steps away. “You don’t get enough of that in class?” His hands also reached for his sunglasses as he followed him to the entrance. “Well it’s your lucky day.”

Itachi's smile, though small, was present as he walked ahead. Over the past few weeks of class Itachi had discovered he enjoyed listening to Deidara's heated opinions, even when they were out there or just wrong. It was refreshing, in stark contrast to his house, where he could pass a full day without any verbal interaction at all. The commotion caused by his excited classmate was enough to cause him to suppress a small laugh. There was a glimpse of unadulterated honesty in the way he talked sometimes, even as disruptive as he was. It didn’t go by unnoticed, though Itachi conveyed little in response.

The gallery was painted a stark white, intimidating in its emptiness. It was larger than Itachi had expected, weaving between sharp corners. The paintings were generally lightly colored, smeared with untextured, flat oil paints. As he viewed his surroundings, the display lights caused a small kaleidoscope in his shadow, following him across the light wood floor.

Deidara looked around. “Hm.” Well he certainly wouldn’t have arranged it this way. The most striking piece here was....Itachi, tall and dark in the center of these pale shapes. After several minutes of silence, he spoke. “Itachi. You’d like to exhibit sometime in a gallery like this one?”

Itachi tilted his head slightly, examining a large piece before him. "Hm. Maybe so." His response was vague and noncommittal, potentially giving one the impression of not caring. That wasn't entirely true, however. Itachi held great personal sentiment over the art he created, perhaps so much so that it made him skeptical of displaying it.

"It would be nice. Just let people come and see it if they want." Itachi seemed drawn to the passiveness of leaving others to feel how they felt, gazing at his static art. His eyes wandered across the canvas slowly.

“Like this?” Deidara did his best, but he couldn’t hide the drop of disappointment in his voice. He felt the space grow between them again. There was no movement, no contrast in these pieces, and they didn’t inspire him at all. The most interesting display, if Deidara was honest, was of Itachi examining this painting. Watching him scan it was engaging in itself. He scanned it so slowly, and his face stayed so still and so serious. Deidara had long been done looking at it. It made him wonder what Itachi’s art was. He knew it would be a lot like him as a person, but he still itched to see it.

Itachi seemed very invested in this piece. It was a large one- probably about four or five feet in each direction. The oils had been applied texturelessly, giving the painting an unreal and pearly look. The painting loosely depicted a townscape, emphasizing an implied sunset, smooth and loosely blended in reds. Itachi's eyes were drawn mostly to the string of small bird silhouettes dotting the cables of a power line in the top right corner.

"You seem unsatisfied," he responded. He was certain Deidara would have bigger sights for himself.

If it were anybody else, Deidara might have nagged that he was ready to move on. But Itachi’s investment in this piece stopped him. So he stood back. By now he could recognize skill in art pieces, but there was no energy, no interest behind it for him. But out of anybody, Itachi might be someone who could convince him otherwise.

“You wouldn’t want there to be more to it? Or just minimal and white?”

Itachi made a small nod, still looking forward at the painting in front of their noses. "It's not very provocative,” he conceded plainly. "But it's pretty."

He continued gazing over the black dots resting on the distant power line. The painting was pleasant and put Itachi at a state of ease. It was palatable and mundane, albeit slightly pale in color scheme. "Sometimes that's enough."

“Hm.” Deidara was drawn in by Itachi’s energy. It quieted him. But it wasn’t enough to make him agree. “Could use more....ambiance.” He put his hands behind his back. He couldn’t see why they couldn’t have the painting but also a flame or a different point of interest. But maybe the starkness is what could allow Itachi to wade in like this, the flat horizon over the ocean. For anyone else, he’d squirm. But for Itachi he’ll wait.

Itachi finally removed himself from the large canvas and faced Deidara. He offered a quite small and pleasant smile. A bit distant, but certain.

"Ambiance," Itachi repeated, as if he was taking notes. He had predicted Deidara would have his own ideas, and he wasn't wrong: their opinions diverged. Still. Deidara seemed quieter than usual, which surprised him. Itachi wasn’t entirely sure what his mood was.

"Why can't it just be?" Itachi was referring to the art, nodding his head. "What would you prefer then?"

“Well it’s so. Bright. So stark. I figure they’d say it’s not to take away from the art, but to me it gives a sense of sterility. Which I never. Want my art to feel like. Is art supposed to be so impersonal?” Deidara shrugged, trying to keep his voice down. “I would also say ‘why can’t it just be?’ Why can’t it just happen? Not some contrived pulling it apart like surgery.”

Itachi continued slowly wandering throughout the gallery, stopping piece by piece until he had filtered through all the artwork. He found himself agreeing with Deidara, even if it didn't suit his immediate aesthetics. What he said resonated with him. Even so, he remained quiet, looking at the oil paintings in front of him. The need for control Deidara expressed was less about reigning in others perceptions than Itachi assumed. It seemed it was more about being able to construct a fleeting moment of meaning--however that may be interpreted. Maybe it was less contrived than at face value. Perhaps that was the point. Itachi said nothing as he continued throughout the gallery, looking occasionally to his side at his classmate. He seemed impassioned and somewhat frustrated with the works, though he was obviously making an attempt to reign in his preconceptions. Maybe there was more to it. More to him.

Deidara followed Itachi, letting him decide the pace at which they proceeded. He stood slightly behind and watched closely as Itachi’s gaze made contact with each piece. It took a lot of concentration but Deidara could eventually note when there was a tiny crack in Itachi’s shell, when his eyes softened slightly as he found his favorite aspects of each work. It was like he collected them and held them in his mind like you would a pebble in the palm of your hand.

It wasn’t the pieces themselves that irritated Deidara, but mostly the presentation, though he would have preferred other styles.

“...if it had to be so sterile, what i would like, is if the viewer could uncover my pieces as if in an archaeological dig, sans any sort of explanation. I wish I could have them then explain it to me.” His eyes wandered around, not really expecting Itachi to answer but unable to keep in his comments.

Itachi looked over at Deidara briefly and then turned his face, nodding. His demeanor had slowly softened to a place of stiff and unused earnestness. His eyes had lost a bit of their usual flattened calm, he appeared to peek from behind his invulnerable and ever present fortress.

"I think that is part of the tragedy." Itachi added, somewhat smally. "You just have to trust some intention is translated."

His hands rested limply at his sides as he looked at the canvas before him. More small birds. Itachi couldn’t help but consider what this artist was hoping to relay. Really, he couldn't say. The fact sobered him some.

"Though. If any impact at all is made, then my work is worthwhile enough." He spoke hesitantly and stilly, almost as if he was convincing himself.

Deidara smiled, almost softly. He could sense the slight change in tone. There was a pause. “You’re such a subtle guy, hm.” He leaned a little closer to Itachi’s shoulder. It was closer than he’d been before. He made note. Itachi always leaned in more to see the birds. “Do you see anything?”

The change was dramatic to Deidara even though it was subtle in reality. He could read people, bizarrely enough. He kept his eyes open.

Itachi remained quiet and unmoving, taking his time before allowing his gaze to wander over to where Deidara had leaned on him. Only his eyes moved, otherwise he was still and poised with grace. Itachi intercepted Deidara's closeness without acknowledgement, though in reality the action was quite foreign and delivered a shot of tense shock. As he settled, however, the tension began to dissipate some. Itachi, untouched by anyone, accepted the deliberate gesture. Slowly, he blinked and looked back at the painting, squinting a little as he examined closer.

"Hm." He mused quietly. Shortly. "Here."

His voice had relaxed noticeably since their arrival at the museum, but still held that familiar blunt delivery. Itachi pointed closely to a small textured patch left on the painting. "I like the use of red here."

Though the painting did generally deliver a warm nature to the viewer, the area was decidedly not red, but more of a warm purple. There was some room left for ambiguity in terminology, but to grant it would be generous.

Deidara took his time, not straightening immediately. He wanted to see just what Itachi was pointing out. Anyways, there was no jump, no drawback, no freeze. Itachi just remained how he was. He stood so poised, but with a softness, a willowy nature. His hands were lowered but not stiff. The tension released. Deidara exhaled. “Do you use red often, Itachi?” His voice seemed to convey a different message than his actual question. The word red was emphasized but ambiguously. He said his name like he held it carefully in his mouth.

Itachi tilted his head subtly, continuing to look at the painting. He blinked slowly once more before answering. "I tend to. Yes."

Of course, all the colors displayed here were muddled and incorrect for Itachi. He was simply drawn to the most distinguished hue on the canvas, and from familiarity and warmth--he was quite certain it was red. He found the bold colors attractive since they distinguished themselves most prominently.

“Hm.” Deidara’s voice was lowered. The side of his mouth tilted upward, and Itachi could almost feel it, as Deidara’s energy lightened.

Itachi was someone who didn’t stand out in the traditional way. Someone who wore dark colors and kept his voice quiet. But Deidara could feel the boldness, like India ink, like blood. So dark but so intense. He felt somewhat more confident when Itachi’s eyes faced away. He was almost embarrassed how those eyes could make him pause. But he was emboldened now. He let his hand rest on his shoulder as he leaned even closer to study the birds. “You like bold things.”

Itachi remained very still, but Deidara could feel his hand begin to lift before pulling itself gently back to its resting position. Deidara's touch was velvet, but somehow heavier than what it should have been. It weighed on him considerably. Itachi's stoic expression managed to remain uncompromised even though he could feel a slight flush to his face, which may or may not have been outwardly perceptible. Perhaps he had just been under the exhibit lights too long. Once more he looked over at his classmate. He had been uncharacteristically agreeable during this excursion, and though Itachi felt sure he had perceived honesty in many of the things he said today, he was uncertain of Deidara's advances. Still. The intent was clear. And the sensation was pleasant. He looked at Deidara.

"I do,” he affirmed simply, pausing to keep his gaze before suddenly breaking it away, turning his face to look the downwards in the opposite direction. The blood rushed to his face, and in profile, he let his hair cover his face, curtaining his uncertainty some.

Deidara smiled to himself, still gentle and taking what seemed like an infinite amount of time here under these white lights. He simultaneously was sensing Itachi’s reactions, but he also felt like he was throwing caution to the wind. He wasn’t sure how Itachi was going to respond. His breath was metered. But it was when Itachi broke, the color flooding his face and he looked away, that Deidara felt his heartbeat skip.

“Hm.” His hum was abrupt. “I do too.” Then his smile stretched across his face. He gently folded his hand, lifting it from Itachi’s shoulder. But as he returned it to his side, he let his fingertips brush down Itachi’s arm. His heartbeat sped up. He wasn’t sure how far he could take it. Itachi seemed sensitive. But this reaction. It gave Deidara great pleasure.

Itachi could feel the heat cross his face even as he quickly composed himself. His expression softened as he continued to look away at the wood flooring, his brow unknitting itself. Itachi was aware of the games Deidara was playing with him. He was just unfamiliar. Besides, this kind of closeness in public granted some hesitation. It was such a small thing that felt so explicit and somehow so unserious from the other end. Itachi had momentarily been caught completely off guard. Nonetheless, he remained perfectly still here, allowing his classmate to slowly narrow the gap between them, feeling his testing fingers brush against his sleeve. Itachi lifted his chin a little, in effect pulling back his curtain of hair so his profile was visible once more. He stared through the painting expressionlessly, wearing a look that indicated he was either seeing something Deidara could not, or that he could see nothing there at all. 

Deidara's hesitant, teasing gesture persisted. A beat passed before Itachi finally shifted his positioning and caught his classmate's hand. He grasped it steadily, with a pointed gentleness that seemed so indicative of his nature, and positioned his hand comfortably around Deidara's smaller one. Itachi said nothing at all, but his eyes had lowered subtly. He blinked slowly and looked down, his expression otherwise unflinching.

Deidara had almost expected Itachi to reject it. His wall these past weeks had been so complete, so seamless. But here it was like Deidara had found an edge of it, where he could peek around. It almost seemed rude to, like opening chests when alone in somebody’s house. But this was Deidara, and small welcomes always seemed to draw him in. The chest is unlocked. The gate is ajar.

But this was also Itachi. More than ever before, Deidara was uncertain, making sure to collect every detail. His softening eyes that were so dark but so clear now. Long eyelashes. that cute flushing and shyness. How he had initially closed off but then, surprisingly, opened up.

Deidara did not expect him to take his hand, but it caught his so gracefully on its descent, almost as if drawn by a magnet. And then to stand here holding hands, Deidara felt an almost nostalgic softness, an innocence here. It was so genuine. Much more earnest than anything Deidara had felt in quite some time. He hadn’t expected Itachi’s hand to be so warm. To fit so well around his palm.

Deidara knew there was a painting here but maybe it wasn’t the one in oil. He waited a moment. Maybe, for once, there wasn’t a word for it.

Itachi felt at ease. He felt like a pebble in a stream that had settled to a spot so far underwater nothing could disturb him again. The deafening quiet was encasing, but warm. As he settled into place, the grip felt more natural. Deidara's stillness surprised him a bit--his hands were known to gesture somewhat wildly, like they were racing to keep up with thought. The softness that consumed his gaze was because of this. He interpreted the message sent in his silence with relief and tenderness. His stance was still postured rigidly, and his grip came with a deliberate structure, but there was a tangible, unexpected warmth, too. It was clear that this was as far as Itachi would allow anything to go, whether an intentional message or not. He seemed too content and too still, too serious, to accommodate anything else. 

The peace Deidara could feel from Itachi was unlike anything he’d felt before. It quieted him, almost into a sense of awe, even though the boundary was clear. The nature of it had already settled Deidara into a gentle and patient acceptance and even embrace of this threshold. Itachi was holding him in place. But the stillness was part of the pleasure. His mind was strangely blank, more muffled and pulsing colors than concrete ideas.

Itachi could feel Deidara's eyes on him even if he attempted to hide it at first. It didn't phase him. That gaze suddenly broke as his cell phone went off in the gallery, interrupting the otherwise quiet atmosphere. A few stray people turned to look--the instructions had been clear at the entrance. Cell phone volume should be set at zero. Itachi looked down over his nose at the sudden noise. 

Deidara didn’t even notice at first, but then felt a disappointment that the moment was ending so soon. He released whatever grip he contributed to allow Itachi to break free. A phone call. He almost felt annoyed and shoved his hand in his pocket.

It was Sasori. Of course. It was unusual, though not unheard of, for him to call rather than text. Deidara hadn't checked his phone since arriving, so he was just now noticing all the unread texts.

Deidara had trouble finding his voice, and when he found it, it was breathy and irritated. If it hadn’t been on loud, he would have ignored it entirely. “What.”

"Deidara, where the hell are you?" Sasori's dry, irate voice sounded from the other end.

He rolled his eyes. “I have an assignment.”

He glanced at Itachi’s hand. “I’ll be back later.”

"Oh?"

Itachi’s didn't seem too pleased with the interruption. A few people were glancing back as Deidara finished his conversation, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Sasori….of course he would choose the worst time to phone in a favor. Deidara was not in a position to deny him after he pulled a few strings and got the RA to turn a blind eye at the bottle of Svedka Deidara had forgotten to stash away. The last thing he wanted to do right now was assist in one of Sasori's weird personal projects. Knowing him, it was something that could definitely be done another time, but Sasori's persuasiveness was equally matched only by his impatience.

Deidara was so irritated. It was like Sasori knew. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did, even though there didn’t seem to be a way for him to know. How could Deidara have let himself already owe Sasori something? He never gave an inch. But he did his best to swallow his annoyance for Itachi’s sake. 

Itachi made a distant nod in understanding, looking down at Deidara. "I can take you home."  It was getting late anyway. Realistically, Itachi needed to begin his grind through class assignments. He hadn't been spending much time out of class in studio. He tilted his head slightly, friendly, his voice still direct but pleasant. "Maybe next time at my house."

Deidara looked down and bit his lip. He sort of knew that would happen. But Itachi’s next comment surprised him, and the delivery was in the same tone, not harsh in any way, but not sweet either. There was, however, somewhat of a glitter in Itachi’s eyes. Deidara’s lip turned up. Wow. “Yeah. Sounds good.” It was a bit inexplicable to him that this worked. Itachi was a weird guy.


	13. Strawberry Pop-Tarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke comes back to school.

Naruto looked down at the foil packet in his hand. Iruka had tried to be as casual as possible approaching him in the nearly-empty hallway, but no matter what, he couldn’t hide his charitable intent as he handed him the packet of pop-tarts. He’d given Naruto a soft smile, small creases around his eyes.

Naruto smiled awkwardly but genuinely, somewhat sheepish. “Thank you.” Then set off to be early to his homeroom.

He felt somewhat better than he did yesterday. A dull pain existed if he flexed his abs at all, but the general sense of nausea had faded. He paused in the door to see if anyone else was already there. Of course there was Sakura, writing on some sort of paperwork for her club. Naruto walked over to the desk beside her and set his bag down, beginning to open the packet in his hand.

Sakura's focus broke to meet the newcomer. She wasn't surprised Naruto decided to take a seat next to her. He still looked tired, and it was strange of him not to greet her. The silver bag of pop-tarts, which gave off the faint, sugary, scent of artificial strawberry. Naruto hadn’t wanted to further distract her, although the foil wasn’t exactly quiet. 

"That's nostalgic," Sakura mumbled, slowly leaning back, glad for a break from her paperwork. She hadn't had those since she was a child, it felt. "Are you feeling any better today, Naruto?"

He would admit he didn’t sleep too well, but it wasn’t due to pain. His mind had been racing lately. “Oh yeah, I feel better now.” He squinted and smiled at her. He wasn’t super excited to talk about it. “Would you like one?” He offered the packet. The pale pink icing reminded him of her. “Did you like strawberry?” He personally had many pop-tarts as a kid, too, but he hadn’t really stopped eating them. The attention from Iruka was somewhat embarrassing but it was gentle and he appreciated it.

Sakura looked down at the frosted pastry before shaking her head in decline. "No thanks, I've already eaten. Besides, gym is next period," she noted, not wanting to have to be active on a full stomach. Still, the gesture was generous even if she was uninterested. She found that after yesterday, she didn't really mind Naruto being near her. Her aura was still cool and not completely accommodating -- just accepting. Just after mentioning it, the bell rang, indicating the start of first period. Sakura tucked away her papers inside her backpack.

"You'll have to hurry to finish those." 

Today, she waited on him. Naruto noted the difference. She hadn’t ever waited on him before. She might have gone to try to catch up with Ino or Sasuke on the way to gym. But today she waited. He put the packet with the second pop tart into his bag and kept the second half of the first in his hand. “I’ll just save it for later.” He juggled his things and followed her, somewhat surprised by her decision. “Wonder what he has for us today.” His mind wandered to Sasuke again. He guessed he would find out if he was here once he got to the locker room. An anxiety gripped his stomach at that, but it made him frown.

Sasuke had made it to gym first. Before, Phys Ed had been a class he enjoyed, at least marginally. The temporary change of pace from the sedentary lull of class was welcome, and the physical nature cleared his head. He didn't have to listen to other people as long as he was staying on task, which he found no problem with. Lately though, it had become an exercise in restraint: Naruto’s voice intrusively jarred his focus, even when he wasn't directly interacting with him. He prepared himself for his impending encounter and slipped his gym shirt on.

Naruto bid Sakura goodbye for the moment, then slipped through the door into the locker room. The moment of truth, he guessed. At first, he couldn’t see , but there he was. Sasuke was pulling his shirt over his head at his customary locker. Then, his face was turned away, but as Naruto crossed the room, it came into view. A loud and furious purple bruise bloomed across Sasuke’s cheekbone. Naruto realized after a second that staring was exactly what he shouldn’t be doing. He guessed it was good that Sasuke seemed otherwise....ok. The others in the room seemed to be biting their tongues, but their eyes were a bit wide, avoiding Sasuke’s corner of the room. And Naruto, whose usual trajectory went to that corner, swerved away for now.

Naruto shoved his stuff into a locker by Shikamaru’s, feeling his heart race some.

Shikamaru was tugging on his tennis shoes when he looked back over his shoulder at the newcomer. His eyes skimmed cursorily over Naruto before he unfolded himself, stretching a bit boredly. "If it isn't the man of the hour." He spoke through a short yawn before wearing a slight smirk, his eyes still half hooded in mild interest.

"Sasuke wasn't here yesterday. What did you do to him?" His drawl held a hint of amusement.

“Uh...” Naruto blinked for a second. He wasn’t sure how Shikamaru could know it was him. But he collected himself and corrected his slouch, standing a little straighter. “Me...? Well, I Uh.” He smirked, remembering the note he’d written to Shikamaru the afternoon before. “I punched him.” There was a weird ounce of pride in it, but he also decided to make it sound like no big deal, which was easy to do with his confusion. He pulled his shorts out of his bag.

Shikamaru's eyes, usually dulled in boredom glittered faintly in interest. Suddenly, he was smiling.

"Damn--I would have paid to see that." He laughed a little to himself, unable to hide his absolute satisfaction at Sasuke's misfortune. "He’s had it coming, that guy."

Shikamaru looked to the side briefly, containing his gratified smile. He placed a hand by his hip as he watched Naruto change. Maybe this kid did know what was up after all.

"So how much did Uchiha cry, after all." Shikamaru knew he should let it go--but this was just too funny, and he decided to indulge himself a bit more.

The glitter in Shikamaru’s eyes was so gratifying, somehow. Naruto smirked to himself, though he found his hands shaking as he found his shoes. He pulled them on and his fingers stumbled as he tied them. “Heh, well not as much as I expected, but.” He shrugged as he sat up again. “Next time, I guess.” Naruto avoided glancing in Sasuke’s direction.

"Man." Shikamaru leaned his head back a little to look at Naruto, his delivery somewhat incredulous. His eyebrows were raised and his smile was faint, but still there. "You just got here and already picking fights with Sasuke."

He shook his head. "You don't know the half of it. What did he do to set you off anyway?"

Naruto paused a moment, sitting up, his shoes finally tied. He frowned. “He’s just such an asshole. He was being mean to Sakura and — yeah.” He shrugged. “That kinda stuff just makes me mad.” Shikamaru’s smile both inflated his ego and made him nervous.

"Hmm." Shikamaru had returned back to his passive self, shifting to a somewhat unimpressed expression. He let out a short with and looked up to the side. "Well you know Sakura. She loves the attention."

Still, he sounded somewhat troubled, shaking his head. "Hey I shouldn't laugh. The whole thing is kind of sad, right. The whole situation. All I'm saying is Uchiha's had it coming for a while now. I don't feel bad for him."

Naruto tilted his head to the side. He thought he’d understood, but maybe he didn’t. “He’s has it coming cause he’s been an asshole to everyone?” Shikamaru was somewhat inexplicable to him. Naruto felt he was the person who felt most strongly about this and yet, he still felt sorta bad for Sasuke, too. But what was he saying? He thought he deserved it too. And Sakura. Well he didn’t understand her at all. Sasuke could do anything and she would still like him. She would side with sasuke but then again she decided to start talking to Naruto again.

"Well. Yeah." Shikamaru tilted his head to the side, his brow creased. "What, don't tell me you haven't noticed? Sakura has been chasing after Sasuke for years. And he doesn't even give her the time of day anymore…." Shikamaru trailed off. The whole scenario was a mess.

"You know Sakura shouldn't be in normal math, right. She's great at math-- It doesn't add up. She brought down her grade just for an excuse to be placed in the same class as Sasuke."

Naruto’s eyes widened. So Sakura had really lowered her grade just to be with Sasuke. He could hardly believe it. About anything else she was the most reasonable person around but apparently she would do wild stunts just for an asshole like him. 

Shikamaru's troubled frown had grown deeper and he shut his eyes, appearing frustrated. "Not that it's any of my business. The whole thing is a pain in the ass. But Uchiha suddenly can't even look in her direction--its not just her. He has to act better than everyone. The guys a prick and a real drag. Honestly I couldn't care less about him." Shikamaru shrugged.

It was clear that Sasuke seemed to think everyone else beneath him. Even if Sakura was being strange, he still shouldn’t treat her like that. Naruto frowned. “Wow. He is a prick.” He didn’t know what else to say really. His punch spoke for itself. Maybe too loudly. 

"I bet a punch in the face was the last thing he expected." Shikamaru flashed a laughing smile. It was less about a personal vendetta and really more about the principle of the matter. It was about time someone challenged Sasuke. Someone besides himself, of course. Shikamaru was ready to drop the subject. Though amusing, the moment had passed and he wasn't looking forward to any more wavemaking while he was around. Just another day of feigning injury to sit out on the bleachers at gym.

The locker a few rows down was slammed shut. Most everyone was trickling out of the locker room, if not already gone by now. Directed towards the origin of the metallic clatter, the two boys noticed Sasuke walking past their row of lockers, white bandage barely covering the ugly bruise given to him. Through his hair it was unclear if Sasuke flashed a cutting glance their way from the corner of his eye, but judging by his aura, it was safe to assume he had. He passed without a word, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Outside the locker room, Jiraiya was waiting in the center of the gym. From afar, Naruto could already see what they were going to do. He lit up. “Alright! Basketball!” He was so excited, but the bland look from Shikamaru momentarily stopped his reaction. 

It looked like this week they were moving on to team sports. It was certainly not the news Sasuke wished to hear, as he preferred activities which were individual or involved just one opponent. He stood with his hands in his pockets, separating himself from the others here, closed to potential interaction. The only one who addressed him was their gym instructor, Jiraiya.

Jiraiya made a face. His voice was low, but Naruto could still hear it. “You sure you can play, Sasuke? That’s quite a bandage.”

"I'm fine." Sasuke delivered it emotionlessly, but underlined. His voice was succinct and resonated a bit among the group of students.

Jiraiya leaned his head back a little to look at him. He wondered where that bruise came from. It didn't look like any accident. He decided to back off, as it wasn’t a discussion Sasuke would willingly open. Of course. He just shrugged and let Sasuke have his way. He exhaled shortly before indicating the class to huddle up for instruction. Today they were playing basketball. The girls would have the next door court, the boys would have this one. From there, they would be divided in half and play against each other as teams.

Naruto could see that Sakura was a bit disappointed. She had been excited to be able to doctor Sasuke yesterday but now she was told to be in an entirely different room. Naruto couldn’t help staring at Sasuke’s bandage, even as he actively tried not to. A strange heavy feeling gripped his ribcage. 

Shikamaru let out a big sigh and stood to the side. Jiraiya didn’t even have to ask him if he was going to participate.

After the girls had left, the coach began to arbitrarily count the boys off by twos. Sasuke was on the same team. Naruto did his best just to stare at Sasuke’s shoes, since he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from him.

Jiraiya must have been kept under a rock to let them be in the same room, let alone the same team. It didn't matter though. Sasuke had spent a day removed from the situation and it appeared to have changed his demeanor. He made no reaction to this news and walked over to his side of the court as if he hadn't realized Naruto was here at all. He was, of course, here though. And he was trying to appear like he wasn't staring. At once, Sasuke caught his gaze and returned it. His eyes were ink, expressionless except for the cold sting of residual apathy. Despite the glaring wound on his face, Sasuke's expression held a measure of unthreatened dignity. He did not break his stare, even as the group of boys huddled to determine game plan.

Naruto met Sasuke’s eyes. They made a chill run down his spine. It was somehow worse than him being angry. He acted like it never happened, but it still felt like it was locked away in some unbreakable safe. Naruto couldn’t sit still. He shifted his weight between his feet.

Nobody really jumped to speak as they huddled up. Naruto may have if he weren’t as distracted. It seemed like the others considered Sasuke an asset because he was generally good at gym, although the bandage on his face was striking. Naruto was still a wild card. But as he tried to rip his thoughts from Sasuke, excitement began to grow in his chest. He loved basketball.

Sai ended up speaking up instead. “Anyone on the other team any good?”

Sasuke diverted his attention to Sai, who had raised his voice over the unfocused murmuring. He then looked behind his shoulder at the other team. Shikamaru: No, he was dead weight. Chouji? Somehow, better than Shikamaru. Lee was over there as well, stretching like it would win him the game.

"Tch." A short smile spread across his lips before he turned his head back around towards his group, realizing the advantage. "He has no support."

Though Lee was fast and excelled at team sports like these, it was impossible for one person to carry his entire team. Sasuke almost felt bad, but he didn't. He was already relishing victory. A way to preserve his dignity.

Naruto felt Sasuke’s competitive edge. Soon it didn’t matter that it was someone he didn’t get along with. He was a teammate. He bounced on the balls of his feet.

Jiraiya didn’t give them much time to chat. “Alright.” He held a basketball in front of him. “Someone from each team come here.” Lee bounded forward almost before he said it. Everyone on this team, except for Naruto, looked toward Sasuke. Naruto wasn’t really looking anywhere in particular. He just waited a moment to be polite then began to step forward. Sai wasn’t afraid to comment. “Naruto do you think you can jump higher than Lee? Maybe Sasuke should.”

The memory of their tennis match flared in Naruto’s mind. Everyone really thought he lost. He glared, but he paused a moment, words not really forming in his mouth.

Sasuke didn't so much as glance at Naruto as he walked up to where Lee was waiting, hands in his pockets. Truth be told, Sasuke had very little experience with basketball--it wasn't his sport. Nonetheless, this didn't stop Sasuke from striding up to the spotlight and meeting Lee's readied stance. He met his expectant expression with one of secure confidence, though he didn’t smile.

Jiraiya tossed the ball. Lee easily tapped it out of his grasp.

The ball went to Chouji, who, for someone so discounted for his size, was difficult to get the ball from. He wasn’t super confident being the one in control, however, so he passed it back to Lee. Or tried to. Naruto anticipated he would, and he caught it in the air.

Despite his personal feelings about Naruto, Sasuke was excited when the ball was brought back to their side of the court, so he strode ahead as Naruto ran to the other side. They were close to the basket: Naruto had the option of passing or attempting a shot, though he was now blocked.

Naruto knew he could make the shot from here, but since the start of this game, he was now aware of how skilled Lee was, so he decided to play it safe and pass. He could imagine him catching it as Naruto shot. His athletic instincts kicked in and he passed to Sasuke, who was open. The personal feud could wait.

Sasuke quickly received the ball, he understood Naruto's trajectory. They could go ahead and score now, securing the game early. His eyes shifted as he quickly surveyed his position: no longer was he completely open, the opposing team was already closing in. Sasuke aimed for the basket, narrowing his eyes in focus before he basketball was smacked clean out of his grasp, hitting Sasuke heavily in the face.

Jiraiya turned sharply, alarmed by the abrupt exclamation. Sasuke hid his nose with both hands, his mouth open, clearly the source of the cry. The pain was enough that Sasuke's breath had momentarily been caught in his chest, and he exhaled in a short, muted exclamation. Of course, normally, this would have been nothing more than a temporary irritation, but compounded by the serious bruise left on his face -- the pain was immense.

Lee hovered anxiously around Sasuke, his hands lifted and open like he was unsure what to do with them.

"Sasuke! I'm so sorry! Is it serious??"

Sasuke left him unanswered and shut his mouth, recovering from the momentary hurt. He scowled, avoiding eye contact with anyone as a stream of blood dripped onto the floor.

Sasuke froze under the lense of pain, anger, and humiliation.

Jiraiya approached, ready to clap Sasuke on the back and remind him to “be a man”, but then he saw how the blood was trickling to the floor, rolling from Sasuke’s hands and down his arm. He grunted. “What happened here?”

Sasuke obviously wasn’t going to answer. Lee stood up from where he’d been kneeling by Sasuke, who’d kept trying to turn away from him. “I was trying to hit the ball away but I lost control of it and it hit him.” He looked apologetic. He’d gotten too excited.

“Hmm.” Jiraiya looked intently at Sasuke. “Guess you’ll have to go to the nurse.” He looked up and around. He’d usually pick a girl to take someone to the nurse but they were across the room. “Naruto. Take him.”

Naruto’s eyes widened in surprise. Apparently Jiraiya didn’t have a memory at all.

The hushed crowd fell into some murmuring. Kiba's grumble resounded through the white noise, disappointed. "But Naruto was our best player...." 

Shikamaru's eyes briefly met Naruto's from across the gym. Though he said nothing, Naruto could hear him say clearly in his head <i>such a pain</i>.

Jiraiya really must live under a rock, but no one here felt under authority to correct him. Either that, or they just became excited by the drama.

Sasuke looked at the blood on his hands in frustration--this wasn't too bad, it would stop soon enough. The blood just looked alarming.

"I'm fine." He said it firmly, his voice lowered.

"Sasuke just go, that blood is making me sick," Jiraiya interrupted dismissively.

Naruto’s face twisted some in confusion at Jiraiya’s decision, but if Jiraiya saw his reaction, he didn’t seem to care. So Naruto made eye contact with Shikamaru for validation. It was such a pain. He was right.

Lee was visibly upset. “I can go with him too, if that’s better!”

Neji, who wasn’t going to say anything, responded. “Lee, you’re acting like you’ve never played sports before.”

The others were disappointed in the ruining of the game, but the drama kept them biting their tongues. Naruto? After that outburst they’d had last week for the whole class to see?

Jiraiya frowned. “Sasuke, go,” he said with more finality.

Sasuke shot a quick and final glare in Jiraiya’s direction. The humiliation stung, but unlike the kind that was heated and flushed one’s face this time it was cold and sterile. Sasuke's black gaze briefly met Naruto's as he approached, engaging momentarily in a jarringly cold countenance. He quickly looked away and walked ahead, wiping his nose and smearing a little blood on his face.

Jiraiya had already turned away, uninterested in fighting Sasuke about it.

Naruto blinked. It would have been better for Lee to go, but he didn’t say anything. The others already turned to each other to figure out how to mend the teams. Kiba piped up that they lost two good players and that they should give them Neji. Naruto dragged his feet but was soon out the door with Sasuke.

He followed at the distance Sasuke set, but as they walked down the hallway he spoke up. “Sasuke let me get the next door for you. You left blood on the handle.”

Sasuke bristled noticeably at the remark. Whether the intention or not, it had come off as condescending. "I'm so glad you came I don't think I could handle all these fucking doors."

That was the first thing he’d said to Naruto all day, his voice becoming stressed. He was doing all he could to prevent himself from kicking the damn thing open. Sasuke was heated. But more than that he was humiliated. He wasn't trying to start any more fights but....fuck Jiraiya, fuck that whole class.

Naruto’s brows knitted together. He was trying hard to give Sasuke space today, but Jiraiya had made it impossible. And now Sasuke’s cold but controlled demeanor had crumbled. “I didn’t want to fucking go with you, Sasuke!” It was the first class of the day and he’d already failed. He lurched forward and grabbed the handle for him before Sasuke reached for it.

"Tch." Sasuke cut a quick glance at Naruto before striding ahead. The pain, though not as sharp, was admittedly quite intense. It dulled his eyes some, but he tried to ignore it. Naruto--he looked fine. As if Sasuke had never punched him back or anything. It heated Sasuke some, a highlight of his inability and lack of impact. Still. In a way there was relief in that. The temporary satisfaction of returning a punch, he doubted would sustain itself days later.

Sasuke ignored Naruto and made his way instead towards the locker room. Naruto’s stomach didn’t outrightly hurt anymore, but he still felt a bruise-like ache when he twisted around.

Naruto scowled at him. Idiot. “Sasuke, you should probably go to the nurse.” At least to get a pain pill. It looked pretty bad. And basketballs can hurt really badly.

But Sasuke was way more angry than Naruto expected. He expected him to be angry, but he seemed even angrier than when he actually hit him. It made Naruto want to step back some but also flare up even more. He didn’t want Sasuke to be such an idiot.

Sasuke ignored his classmate as he made his way back to his locker. He wiped his bloodied hands quick on his gym shorts before yanking out his backpack and fishing for something that apparently escaped his grasp, causing his car keys to jingle amidst the rustling. Sasuke <i>was</i> angry. Angry enough he felt like he was about to throw up. Angry enough to slam lockers. But he did none of those things. He said nothing at all, just finally pulled out a pack of tissues and a small box of cotton bandages, like the one he was already wearing.

The blood wasn't that bad. It had only minimally stained in droplets on his grey tee. It wasn’t comparable to the wound he had taken earlier this week, anyway. Sasuke finally sat down on the bench, holding tissues up to this nose to stop the remaining blood from getting everywhere. At second glance, it was only so dramatic because of the bruise that as already there--a thin streak of blood stretched across his cheek toward his chin where he had smeared it. After a moment of ignoring his presence, Sasuke said quietly, stilly:

"Just go, Naruto."

Naruto could feel the anger radiating from him. It seemed to make the room grow colder and pulse like his heartbeat. Naruto stood frozen, somewhat in awe, but he could also feel the anger welling up in his stomach.

He wasn’t even sure why he was so angry. Sasuke being angry wasn’t a surprise. It would be weird if he wasn’t.

But seeing the bruise on his face made Naruto so upset. He didn’t want it to be there. He also hated his inability to get Sasuke to do anything to help, even go to the nurse. He gritted his teeth for a moment, then turned and stalked out the door.

Sasuke watched Naruto stalk out, his eyes not leaving the back of his shirt. Truth be told, he didn't expect Naruto to leave just like that. Though he appeared conflicted, his energy was inflamed and pressing, exacerbating Sasuke's will to remain unmoved. Why was he so angry? Sasuke could not pin it down. It was different than the anger which had pushed the two to violence the other day, Sasuke had done his best to separate himself despite the circumstance. He could clearly nurse a bloody nose without a nurse's help. He stared at his shoes, wiping up the residual blood. He’d become so focused, clearing his mind, so in tuned to the flow of his own blood, he had left himself, his vision unfocused slightly. Amidst the anger there was a suffocating calmness that extended itself across his chest.

Suddenly, the sound of sneakers. Sasuke didn't look up until Naruto was already by his side. He dropped a bag of ice wrapped in a paper towel on the bench next to him. Sasuke looked up him, eyes slightly narrowed.

"I don't need it."

“....Just fucking use it.” Naruto’s voice was metered but deliberate, trying to stay calm in the midst of the nebulous anger in the room. He didn’t make eye contact and sat down on the same bench a few feet away with a sigh.

He was still fighting his anger. There was a pause as he began to succeed, and the heat of it began to subside. The sense of quiet began to return to the room. Naruto seemed to grow more nervous than angry. Finally, he spoke. “....Sasuke.”

His voice almost had a sense of defeat. The fighting, writhing anger was gone for the moment. He paused again, not sure what he wanted to say. He didn’t expect Sasuke to answer. “....you really are an asshole. But. ...you didn’t deserve that.” Naruto looked at the floor beyond his shoes.

Sasuke became very still for a moment, making sure he was hearing correctly. Right now,he felt his presence too amplified, like watching a recording of yourself on a phone, it made it difficult to comprehend what was being said organically: everything was thinly filtered. He cast a quick glance toward Naruto, drawing his eyebrows in, his gaze studying his face for any giveaways of intention. As before, he appeared violently genuine. Sasuke's gaze fell slightly before he tossed his head to face the lockers in front of him. He said nothing, his eyes colored empty.

After a few long, drawn out beats of silence, Sasuke’s hand shifted to grip the small bag of melting ice.

"..." He cut his eyes half heartedly. "The bruise is already set. Ice isn't going to do anything you know." He said so matter-of-factly, quieter and without his usual edge of antagonism.

Naruto, once again, was somewhat surprised he said it out loud. It was so genuine it wasn’t even very premeditated. His eyes relaxed some and he continued to stare at the floor. Then he almost smiled. He could sense the tension release in Sasuke.

“....but it will keep the swelling in your nose down. Maybe it will hurt less.” He still stared at the point on the floor.

But as Sasuke reached for the ice and pressed it to his nose, Naruto’s gaze slowly rose to meet his face. His eyes were soft and not aggressive. The edges of his lips crept upward. His stare was just subtle.

Sasuke continued to look forward at the metal lockers ahead of him. One eye shut at the cold shock of ice on his bruised skin, but opened slowly as he adjusted. He felt Naruto's gaze on him though he could not see it himself, it felt tangible and weight somehow. Present. Without turning his head, Sasuke shifted his eyes to look at the blonde sitting next to him. He was looking directly at his face. Sasuke drew his eyebrows together, a slight frown of secondhand embarrassment, his lip jutting out just the slightest bit like before. His eyes narrowed questioningly before he shut them, hanging his head as he turned away subtly, pressing the ice pack against his face.

"What are you doing idiot." His brows were knitted but his delivery was more dry than angry.

Naruto smirked. The change in Sasuke’s tone was a huge relief. He was beginning to understand a pattern in it. His smile was of solving the first level of a puzzle. He knew Sasuke was still mad, but what scared him was finally gone now. It was weird. He wasn’t really afraid of being mad at Sasuke. He was weirdly more afraid of being soft to him. That seemed to make Sasuke even more angry. Like at a visceral level.

But it was true. That bruise was horribly distracting. It was hard not to look at it. Or at Sasuke’s dark eyes....

Naruto stood up all of a sudden and went to his locker. “Nothin’.”

He opened his bag and pulled out the foil package he’d saved from earlier. He peeled it back some as he went to sit down on the bench again. He broke the pop-tart in half and offered it to Sasuke.

Sasuke raised his eyebrows lightly, looking down towards the processed breakfast pastry. He looked skeptical as his gaze quickly flickered back to Naruto's face, then back at the pastry. His arms were folded tightly by his side, pressing the ice bag to his bruise. He paused uncomfortably before he turned his head away and leaned forward, a bit into himself. Naruto's generosity, for whatever reason, unsettled him some right now. He withdrew.

"I don't care for sweet things." Sasuke excused himself, clearly but quietly. He gazed downwards over the bridge of his nose, feeling the now dull but pressured pain spread across his face. It was no longer sharp, but hot and constant.

Naruto hummed, as if saying <i>suit yourself</i>. He didn’t really expect Sasuke to take it. He’d forgotten he didn’t like sweets, and the memory of Sakura saying that finally returned to him. But he also knew Sasuke probably wouldn’t take it, no matter what it was.

He just sat there by him, not wanting to leave. He looked back at the floor, scuffing his shoes on the linoleum. He broke off pieces of the pop-tart and let them dissolve in his mouth.

Silence ensued for a bit. Sasuke looked at the clock. "You should go,” he instructed simply. Sasuke wasn't planning on returning. "Didn’t you want to play?"

Naruto bit on the pop-tart thoughtfully. He did want to play. But he was worried about Sasuke, for some reason. “What are you going to do?” There was still about a half hour of gym left.

Sasuke didn't respond or engage, leaving Naruto's question unanswered. He lifted his chin a bit, looking at the ground. He planned on cutting the rest of class at least, maybe next period as well. His car was parked outside, he had the option of leaving, even if it did jeopardize the already poor standing he was in after the other day. Try as he might, he could not take any of this seriously. He had spent the majority of yesterday lying in bed, watching TV and messing around on his phone. Making a cup of coffee here or there. If he had pushed himself harder he could have done more-- but he just couldn't will it. This didn't interest or occupy him, even if Naruto's intentions were softening. He had little interest of being here at all.

Naruto looked at him again. “Are you gonna leave?” He almost seemed disappointed. But he did want Sasuke to feel less out of place. The punch Naruto sustained didn’t display on his face like that. He almost felt guilty for laughing about it. Naruto was very conflicted. When Sasuke wasn’t there it was easy to get him worked up about what an asshole he was, but when he was actually here with him, Naruto felt for him.

But he stood up. Hovering over Sasuke also worked to make him uncomfortable. Naruto wanted it to be normal. It was just that they never had a normal interaction to begin with. “Guess I’ll go back.”

Sasuke watched Naruto crumple up the silver wrapper and shove it in his pocket. It was clear he wanted Sasuke to return, but Sasuke had no intention of doing so. He was still debating going to school today at all. He found it strange, the disappointment thinly veiled in his delivery. He remained seated on the bench, watching Naruto leave once more, staying put even after he heard the door shut with a heavy thud.


	14. Locker Room Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the events of gym class.

Naruto returned to the gym, jogging across to where the boys’ game was happening. Apparently the ball had gone out of bounds, as Sai was dribbling the ball slowly, unguarded, to the center of the court. Everyone seemed annoyed at him for taking such a long time. Naruto quietly joined the others who were expectantly waiting for his pass. Sai was unconcerned with the others’ frustration. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice. But finally, he passed it to Naruto, who was able to catch it, dodging the others. 

“Naruto’s back!” Kiba exclaimed, stating the obvious. Naruto looked around, but nobody was open, so he dodged sharply around Chouji and dribbled to make a basket. The boys spun into an excited clamor.

By the end of the game, the score had just edged over to a win for Naruto's team. Kiba clapped Naruto violently on the back, still caught up in the excitement. He had been fighting for this win desperately until Naruto finally returned. Naruto smiled, happy about the attention. He hadn’t been able to play basketball with so many other people in a long time. 

Lee, after taking in his defeat, approached Naruto from the opposite end of the court. He extended his arm in a somewhat inappropriately formal manner, engaging him in a handshake.

"Good game." He smiled seriously, in effect introducing himself. Though he was in basketball, he had never met Naruto before and hadn't had the chance to interact with him before now. His sportsmanship was exemplary and intense, but it was pretty much the first polite introduction Naruto had received since getting here.

Naruto was a little surprised at Lee’s manner, but he shook his hand and looked him in the eyes, like he prompted him to do. “Good game.” Then he smiled brightly.

Lee's voice lowered as he made a quick aside, almost apologetically. "Hey.... is Sasuke OK?"

Naruto was reminded of Sasuke and his pleasure waned a little. He nodded at Lee, though. Lee hadn’t really hurt him much more than he already had.

Before Naruto could answer, a voice interrupted their introduction. "Hey, Naruto, over here." Jiraiya waved him over casually as the girls regrouped from the additional court.

Coach calling him over was a surprise to him, but it was definitely a relief to escape the topic, and Naruto trotted over.

Jiraiya turned from the girls. “Hey, Naruto.” A wry smile stretched across his face. “Basketball tryouts are next week. I’d like you to be there.”

It took a moment for it to sink in, but then Naruto’s eyes widened. There might have even been stars in them. He hadn’t expected such a compliment. “Yeah....yeah, I’ll go!” Then the smile finally came back.

x-x-x-x-x

It didn't matter.

Sasuke pushed himself off the bench and turned back to his locker, wanting to change out of his bloodied gym clothes. He couldn’t ever catch a break.

The locker room was quiet, but before Sasuke could pull his shirt on, the door from the hallway opened. “Well, well, well. Decided you’re done with gym?” The voice belonged to a tall, willowy boy whose white hair, upon closer inspection, shone slightly green at the ends from chlorine.

Sasuke blinked before looking to the side as he heard the familiar voice. There, by the corner of the lockers behind him wearing a light blue tracksuit with the sleeves pushed up was a figure that did not belong to this class. Sasuke glanced over at him flatly before looking away, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Suigetsu." He acknowledged after a dead beat. Suigetsu had no business here as far as Sasuke was aware, but today, in the mood he was in, nothing could surprise him.

Suigetsu, inexplicably, but not as a surprise to Sasuke, was grinning ear to ear. “Yes, it’s me.” He walked over to a locker marked especially for him. “I get to leave early for a swim meet,” he explained without being asked. “I take it you’re skipping gym?”

But then the realization dawned on him. Sasuke’s face! “Sasuke. What happened to your face?”

Sasuke shut his locker with a harsh clang. There was still a little streak of blood dried on his chin that he had missed. He didn’t reply and that alone answered it all. Suigetsu knew him well enough, and he had clearly been in a fight. Not that that happened frequently-- there was just no other explanation. He looked over at Suigetsu, holding his backpack over one shoulder. "It doesn't matter."

Suigetsu shrugged. “You missed a spot.” He lazily licked his finger and rubbed it off Sasuke’s chin.

Sasuke shut his eyes and scrunched up his face the smallest bit, allowing Suigetsu to do so. He frowned slightly but otherwise didn't protest, opening his eyes and giving Suigetsu a flat look. He hadn't been spending much time with him--Sasuke had abandoned his previous school activities and Suigetsu was occupied with swim team.

Suigetsu seemed to know no fear. He knew Sasuke’s mood and still touched him like that. The look seemed to goad him on, if anything. Like it was nothing, Suigetsu turned back to his locker and started stuffing things into his bag. “We’re at Riverside today. It’s a big one.” He shut the door. “But it’s like. 4 hours.” He rolled his eyes, then looked at Sasuke for a moment. “You know. We’ve been missing you at debate. It’s been unbearable without you.”

Normally, Sasuke would have offered a short smirk in response, but today his expression didn't change at all. "Hm. Kakashi still annoying as ever?"

“Oh no, he’s much much worse. Sasuke, he put us with NEJI. And he won’t change that no matter what I say to him. It’s </i>horrible</i>.” He tilted his head back and whined. “It’s like he WANTS me to suffer.”

"I wouldn't put it past him." Sasuke responded dryly, slightly uninterested.

Neji though. He narrowed his eyes at the image. The thought of forcing Suigetsu and the rest of his team to work with someone as straight-laced and self righteous would be laughable if it weren't so strictly inconceivable. Sasuke looked down at Suigetsu blankly with perhaps just the smallest semblance of pity.

"So Neji finally joined because I left. Then Kakashi probably paired him with you."

Tch. It seemed hardly compatible, but Sasuke understood the attempts at his replacement. In a way it was gratifying, watching them scramble in his absence. At the same time, it was a bit insulting. Hyuuga politics he knew to be short sighted and a chore.

“I can’t STAND it,” Suigetsu continued with a sad face. “My instinct is to argue against him. He’s never been on the same team as me before. And I wish I could keep it that way. Sure he’s good but....” His frown deepened. “...we’re never going to Nationals again.” Not that he really wanted to go to Nationals without Sasuke. And spend all the time with Karin? No thanks.

Tough break for the debate team. Suigetsu had made a fair point. Though Neji was talented, their personal ideas were too opposed, and it sounded exhausting. Sasuke frowned.

"Well at least you have swim team," he offered dryly with a sense of finality.

Suigetsu knitted his brows. His fishing hadn’t caught Sasuke. “....yes. That I do. Got to get that time down. Three more seconds is an eternity.” He was absorbed in himself for a moment but then looked up. “Oh! But even if you don’t have time for debate, do you think you’ll go to fencing club sometime?” He guessed he was stuck with Neji. He hadn’t been exaggerating one bit.

"Probably not." Sasuke's response was quick, looking away from Suigetsu. He was full of no's today, and apparently wasn’t feeling very cooperative. Still, his manner had lost its previous edge, and he only seemed resigned. Or just difficult. To be fair, Suigetsu had caught him in a bit of a mess, blood still on his face and all. Sasuke stared dully at his friend's sneakers.

"I think I'm going home," he admitted after a drawn out pause.

Suigetsu dipped his head in defeat. He’d tried. He genuinely missed Sasuke. He’d barely seen him for quite some time now. “Get some rest.” He knew Sasuke probably needed it. But then he grinned. “Yer welcome to come watch me crush Riverside, as always.” He tilted his head to the side and swung his bag over his shoulder. His offer was genuine but he knew that Sasuke wouldn’t accept. “Later.”

Sasuke suddenly felt the weight of his backpack as he gripped it in his left hand. He watched Suigetsu swing his duffel bag over his shoulder and begin padding away.

"Hey, Suigetsu." Sasuke interrupted his stillness. "Text me after swim team."

Suigetsu halfway turned back to him and smirked. “Can do.” Then he turned back around with a half wave and the door swung shut behind him.

x-x-x-x-x

After class in the locker room, Ino edged up to Sakura as she pulled off her shirt and elbowed her in the ribs. “‘Ey.” Her face held a look of feigned concern, but Sakura knew her well enough that it was just concealing a look of mischief. 

"Hey!" Sakura clutched her shirt in towards herself, drawing her shoulders up defensively. She scowled at her friend, wearing a pout on her lips. 

Ino was unphased. She went on to ask: “What happened to Sasuke?” She was always irritated at Sakura’s preoccupation with that boy, but Ino decided maybe it could come in handy to know the gossip. Nobody seemed to know why Sasuke has sustained such a wound. Even asking Sai came up dry, and normally he was a good resource.

Sakura cut her eyes to the side shortly, having withdrawn. "It's not funny. He got hurt." She defended Sasuke almost as an extension of herself. She hadn't even gotten to talk to him since she helped him clean up his face the other day. Part of Sakura wanted to indulge and share her concern--the other wanted to delete the topic entirely.

Ino backed off a bit and shrugged. Something about Sakura made her fun to sneak up and startle. “I’m not laughing. You just don’t see him come in like that every day. It just makes me wonder....” and Sakura always. Always. Knew what was going on with Sasuke. She made it her business. Ino, to be quite honest, found it weird if Sakura didn’t know. It was quite irritating. It wasn’t the same how she and Sai had a general curiosity about the lives of others around them. It was just Sasuke, whom Ino found somewhat boring, himself. It was Sakura’s obsession that somewhat made him important.

Sakura knew she was being teased. She looked at the floor, still pouting, then proceeded to pull her shirt back on. "....There was a fight,” she admitted after a pause, her arms falling limply at her sides. Sakura knew she was indulging in gossip, but she had been quite shaken herself after the incident, caught in the middle of it without anyone to discuss it with. It had bothered her quite a bit.

Ino really was surprised. “A fight?? We’re still talking about Sasuke, right?” Her outburst wasn’t enormous but a few others looked in her direction. She would never in a million years think Sasuke would engage in violence like that, no matter how unlikable he was. “Who on earth would he fight with?”

She did care that Sakura was so affected, but when it came to Sasuke, Ino wasn’t quite as soft. But she also knew that Sakura was the type to feel she needed to burst unless she talked things through with somebody.

Sakura shot a glare at the blonde for her exclamation. "It was Naruto," she said in a sober tone, replacing her gym shoes with her school ones. The locker shut. "Boys. I guess." Sakura looked absolutely jaded.

Ino blinked several times. “Naruto.” She exhaled. That was the kid Sakura had sat with the other day at lunch. The new kid. “Wow.” She wondered what made him so mad. And Sasuke?!

Sakura could see all the thoughts going across Ino’s face. Her excitement built up but she tried not to show it. “What happened....?!”

Sitting down on the bench to put her shoes on, Sakura cast an uneasy glance upwards at Ino. "I don't entirely know,” she said with a subdued sense of anxiety. "Before I realized what was going on, Naruto had already punched him in the face."

She paused. "But the thing is. It kind of seemed like Sasuke wanted him to do it...." Her voice was quieter. It's true that Naruto had thrown the first punch, but she remembered the fighting words that had led up to it. It's like Sasuke was looking for trouble.

Sakura scowled. She had a headache.

“Oh damn....” Ino sat next to her, her tone somewhat more gentle. “So you actually saw it happen.” She clasped her hands together. “I don’t know much about Naruto yet, but it seems like whenever he and Sasuke are in the same room, there’s always tension.” Then she turned toward Sakura more. “You ok, though? You don’t look so well. They <i>are</i> just boys. I’m not sure you need to worry so much?” She smirked somewhat to herself. “I’m sure if Shikamaru wasn’t so lazy, he’d have punched Sasuke at some point.” She was trying to lighten the mood. “They’re animals.”

Sakura paused, scrunching her face a bit more before she threw her head on Ino's shoulder with an exasperated groan. "They are animals...." she mumbled, her forehead resting on her friend's shoulder for a moment. Ino was right. She had reason to be concerned about Sasuke, but what was done was done, it was not her trouble to bear. Still. That was easier said than done, Sakura had always been the type to overthink. 

Ino sighed. "I really don't know why you give them the time of day."

Sakura blinked, pausing for a moment, but then a small smile crossed her lips. "Shikamaru's a coward. He wouldn't know how to throw a punch to save his life anyway." 

Ino knew Sakura wouldn’t stop worrying. She couldn’t imagine her being able to stop, in fact. But hopefully adding humor to it helped. She gave an exaggerated yawn, stroking her nails through Sakura’s hair. “It’s a DRAG to punch someone so ungrateful for my time. It’s a DRAG to have arms stronger than noodles.” She giggled. “If he were an animal he’d be a sloth.” Then she hummed. “Sasuke would maybe be....” It was a decision of grave and serious nature.

Sakura's nose crinkled in quiet, delighted laughter, smiling at her friend's teasing. It was true--it was refreshing to separate from the boys in gym for once. It had been a while since she'd spent time with just Ino. Ino was gratified at feeling Sakura’s tension drop. She laughed too. 

The two hadn’t noticed anybody else was listening, but at the lockers across from them Hinata tilted her head to the side. “Maybe a cat?”

Sakura raised her eyebrows at the soft interjection, turning her head to face its source. "Eh, Hinata, you were listening?" But she smiled when she processed the suggestion. "Sasuke would be a cat...."

Sakura held a hand up towards her face as she drew her eyebrows together. The thought was stupid and cute. Sakura could hardly imagine though. In reality she was more of a dog person.

"Hinata, you're kind of like a cat too."

Hinata pretended to be serious, knitting her eyebrows together. “Mew.” Her face always was somewhat serious even if she wasn’t being serious. “....hopefully I’m a different type of cat than Sasuke, though.” Her voice was quiet, unsure how that comment would go. But then she looked at Sakura. “Hey, if you ever need me to punch him for you. I can.” She briefly held up the boxing gloves she kept in her gym bag. 

Ino’s eyebrows shot up. This was news to her. “Awesome!”

Sakura looked at the boxing gloves peeking out of her duffel bag before looking back at Hinata with a grin.

"Someone has to keep them in line right?" Hinata gave a somewhat devilish smile.

She didn't talk about her boxing hobby often, though she had been going for over a year now. It wasn't an interest she expressed openly, but the encouragement at being noticed made her smile a bit. It had been a while since she’d felt so relaxed, and it was a nice and small change of pace from her usual social obligations. Hinata smiled slightly. “Don’t let them ruin your day.” Ino nodded in agreement. 

Sakura pushed herself up from the bench with a new springiness which had been absent during gym period, and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Hinata you're so lucky. You're not in any of their classes, are you?" She laughed a bit.

Hinata finished shoving her clothes in her bag. “Sasuke? No, he isn’t in any of my classes except this one. Shikamaru? Just one I think. And Naruto? A few, I think.” She kept repeating the disclaimer. She’d noticed him. Something about him was hard to ignore. But she didn’t know him very much at all yet.

"Sounds peaceful." Sakura smiled softly. To be honest, though Hinata was another familiar face, Sakura couldn't remember the last time they talked. Hinata was so quiet and often easy to gloss over. Though they had both done band in middle school together, they hadn't really talked since then. Sakura didn't know her very well at all, she realized. It seemed a bit of a shame. Hinata was funny when she actually shared her opinions on things.

Finally, the bell rang. It was time to rotate classes.


End file.
